


a light that never goes out

by ADreamingSongbird



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Telepathic/Empathic Bond, banana fish isn't real and golzine fucked off to hell where he belongs, homophobia is not real because im gay and i say so, kind of??? eiji is a college student and sing is in high school, romantic and platonic soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-10-16 07:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17545670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADreamingSongbird/pseuds/ADreamingSongbird
Summary: Ash's soulmate has always been the one bright spot in his life - their unconditonal love for him was his rock, his guiding light in the darkness, when all other lights went out. They've never been able to speak, but he loves them fiercely and desperately, with his heart and soul.Half a world away, the doctors tell Eiji Okumura that his competitive polevaulting career is over.For the first time in Ash's life, his soulmate's light goes out.





	1. {prologue} before the beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello! please check out this absolutely [amazing cover art](https://twitter.com/jumpforjo/status/1088985443247501312) that [jo](https://twitter.com/jumpforjo) did for me!!! we're gonna be doing this together and we're very very excited!!! :D
> 
> i'll be doing warnings, if applicable, by chapter.
> 
> warnings: nongraphic bits of ash's past trauma and abuse

Eiji Okumura is ten years old when he discovers the worst part of soulbonds.

(“There is someone on the other end of your bond, Ei-chan,” Kaa-san explained one sunny afternoon, petting his hair as he dozed in her lap. “Someone connected to your heart, who will be there for you, always, no matter what. It is a beautiful thing.”)

It’s half past seven in the morning, and he’s about to head out the door for school, when the terror hits—a visceral, gripping surge of fear so intense he can’t breathe.

(“The soulbond lets you share thoughts and feelings, Ei-chan. Are you still awake? Yes? Good! Your soulmate will always be there when you are sad, and they will celebrate with you when you are happy. They will be your best friend. Isn’t that wonderful, little one?”)

He trips and stumbles and falls, muscles seizing up as his mind blanks of everything but _fear fear fear_ , and he scrambles away until his back is to the wall, tears streaming down his cheeks as he clutches for something, _anything,_ to ground him.

“Kaa-san—Kaa-san! Help, help, p-please—”

His mother’s arms sweep him up and hold him tight, and he clutches at her and sobs and sobs and sobs, hurting and scared and crying and desperate, without knowing why. Minutes drag by like hours. The fear doesn’t stop.

Eiji stays home from school that day, and his mother takes care of him, rocking him like a little baby and promising him over and over that he is safe.

Half a world away, Cape Cod’s little league team has finished the week’s practice.

* * *

It happens again the next week.

And the week after that.

And—

“Ei-chan.” Tou-san holds one of Eiji’s hands in both of his big ones. There’s a crease between his eyebrows, drawn by concern, and Eiji fidgets, not wanting to look at the worry in his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” Eiji looks down at the stitches in the cushions where they sit, stares at the pattern of threads weaving in and out, and remembers belatedly to breathe. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” Tou-san squeezes his hand. “I’m glad. We should talk about your soulbond, if you feel alright, okay?”

Eiji nods. He doesn’t know _what_ happens every Friday morning, but his soulbond overflows with the fear, every time; last time, there was disgust added to the mix, a revulsion so poignant that Eiji found himself in the restroom throwing up the contents of his breakfast, sobbing all the while. He doesn’t understand what his soulmate is going through every week, but his parents might, and maybe they can fix it!

“It scares me,” he mumbles, holding onto Tou-san’s hand as tight as he can. “Every time, it’s really scary.”

“I know.” Tou-san takes one hand away to pat the top of his head. Eiji feels tiny and protected. “You are so brave, Ei-chan. Your mother and I do not know what is happening to your soulmate, but you are our little warrior, facing this when it happens. We are proud of you.”

“Even though I get scared?”

Tou-san nods. “Yes. But you don’t need to be scared every time, okay? You can turn it off.”

Eiji blinks. “Turn off the scary stuff?” That sounds too good to be true. If he could just turn off whatever’s scaring his soulmate, they’d both be happier.

“There is a way,” Tou-san says, and Eiji draws himself back to the present, “to block out the perceptions of your soulmate, and to close your mind for a time. People do this sometimes when they need to focus, like on tests at school, or when they’re in meetings at work. Or, in some cases, to protect themselves.”

He pauses and gives Eiji a significant look.

Eiji blanches.

“Wait, no!” He pulls his hand back from Tou-san, tears welling up in his eyes again. “No, no, Tou-san, I _can’t,_ I can’t I can’t I can’t!”

“Ei-chan!” Tou-san takes his hands, the concern in his face growing, and Eiji whines because he can’t scrub at his cheeks if his father won’t let go of his hands. “Ei-chan, it’s _okay,_ we’re here for you, you won’t be alone even when you use a block—”

Eiji lets out a wail of despair. _“No!”_

“What do you mean, _no?”_ Tou-san squeezes his hands again. “No to which part?”

“The—the _block,_ ” Eiji cries. “I _can’t,_ Tou-san! If, if my soulmate is hurting, I—I should be there for them! I can’t leave them alone! They need me!”

Tou-san’s eyes widen, and then Eiji finds himself swept into a hug, face smushed against his father’s chest. He smells familiar, like aftershave and green tea, and Eiji’s tears slow at the comfort of his heartbeat.

“Oh, Ei-chan,” Tou-san murmurs. “You are a little angel.”

“I have to be there for them.” Eiji sniffles and looks up. “That’s what soulmates are _for,_ right?”

Tou-san just kisses the top of his head, and does not answer.

* * *

Far, far away, in a land over a deep, dark ocean, Aslan Jade Callenreese loses his innocence, his father, and his brother. He loses his freedom next, and not long after that, his hope.

Griffin always used to tell him about soulmates, about how there’s someone out there who will understand him, be there for him, and love him, no matter what. Ash never paid him much heed, with all his sappy poetry and mushy stories, because there’s never been anyone’s voice in his head, not like Griffin said. He’s never heard his soulmate speak to him.

But as he lies there, trembling, between sullied sheets, it’s almost as if a whisper in his heart is telling him _it’s-okay-it’s-okay, not-alone-I’m-here,_ tracing words of love into his battered, bruised skin. _I’m-here, it-will-be-okay, I-love-you._

Wrong. Nobody here loves him.

The warmth refuses to go away, though, no matter how brokenly he throws despair at its light, and finally, exhausted and broken and suffused by a gentle glow of _love-you-soothe-you-I’m-here,_ Aslan buries his face into a stained pillow and weeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! chapter two, the first Real chapter, will be up on sunday (in two days), and after that updates will be every other sunday!!
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://eijispumpkin.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/songbirdrimi) !!! and [here's](http://jumpforjo.tumblr.com/post/182309568144/all-kinds-of-excited-to-finally-show-yall-what) the cover art again on tumblr!


	2. to be young and in love in new york city

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiji crosses the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jo art can be found [Here](https://twitter.com/jumpforjo/status/1089762413321375746) and i love it PLEASE look!!! it's also linked in the chapter at the Relevant moment!!!!
> 
> many thanks to everyone who commented last chapter <3 sorry this one was posted kinda late, we had Technical Difficulties™ today! but hopefully you will all like this update!
> 
> no warnings this chapter.

“Ei-chan. Ei-chan, wake up!” Ibe-san’s hand on his shoulder gently shakes him out of whatever little sleep he managed to get on the plane, and Eiji blinks slowly and sits up, head foggy. Ow… he was leaning against the armrest, and now his neck hurts…

“Mm?”

His mind is so fuzzy from sleep that he’s convinced it’s late morning and he’s at home, lounging around, and it takes him a moment to register the air hostess standing in the aisle, smiling at him. “Morning, sweet pea! I hope you slept okay. We’ll be landing in about two hours! What can I get you to drink with breakfast?”

“Oh…” Eiji shakes his head, trying to clear it, and sternly reminds himself that he’s on an airplane heading to America, the sun is barely up outside the plane’s windowshades, and he needs to figure out a drink. Uh… juice. Juice is good. “Orange juice?”

_What the FUCK?_

The voice in his head that’s _not his own_ startles him so badly that he gasps and flails out, and his knee slams into the armrest next to him with an explosion of pain. “Ah—!”

“Ei-chan!” Ibe-san looks alarmed. “Are you okay?”

“Ah—yes, uh—leftover weird dream, maybe,” Eiji manages, wide-eyed, as he massages his knee. God, he’s just great at messing up his legs, isn’t he? Ugh. The air hostess—Denise, her name tag says—passes him his orange juice, and he tries his best to smile. “Thank you. And sorry for scaring you, Ibe-san.” 

“Oh, that’s okay.” Ibe-san smiles, pats his shoulder, and looks to the air hostess. “And I’ll have coffee, please!”

“One hot coffee, coming right up!” Denise cheerfully picks up a styrofoam cup and a coffeepot. How in the world is she not dead inside on a flight this long—

_Okay, no, stop, what is going on, why are you in my head?_

Eiji balks. _You are in_ my _head!_

The presence in his head is intimately familiar, as if he’s known the owner of this voice all his life, even if he’s never heard it before, and it takes him another moment to register that it must—it must be his soulmate. He’s always known they weren’t in Japan, because he never could feel their thoughts, only the barest waves of emotion, thanks to the distance, but he never thought coming to America would bring him closer—

No, that’s a lie. There was part of him that hoped and craved and yearned to meet them, but he kicked it into a box and shut the box away in a deep, dark cellar in his mind, because after his botched ankle ruined all his hopes and dreams for the Olympics, he refused to let himself hope for anything else, either.

_…You’re my soulmate,_ the voice on the other end observes, apparently about as astute as Eiji himself, as the air hostess places a tray of frankly unappetizing food in front of him. It’s softer than before—still a little surprised, but gentle, too.

Eiji wonders, suddenly, what his soulmate must think of him, after all these years. He’s never known what made them hurt so much, all through their childhood, but _god_ did they hurt—he always tried his best to console them, whenever it was at its worst, but his soulmate was rarely ever happy ever since that morning when he was ten. Do they resent him for having a happier childhood?

_I am,_ he answers, a little hesitant. _Sorry._

_Why are you apologizing?_ His soulmate is a little amused, a little worried; Eiji doesn’t know if he just hears those emotions in their voice or if he feels them the way he always has, but he knows they’re there the same way he knows the sky is blue. _I like you, dumbass._

_Oh._ Eiji has to duck his head and sip his juice to keep from blushing obviously. _I do not know why I apologized. Sorry._

_Oh my god,_ his soulmate groans at the same time as he realizes, _Wait no,_ and then his soulmate laughs.

Eiji has never heard his soulmate laugh before, and he still has never heard them laugh out loud, but suddenly, he wants to hear them laugh again and again and again, forever. Is that normal? Maybe it is. Most soulmate pairs he knew growing up were close to each other and knew each other’s laughter from childhood, though, so he doesn’t know how much is _normal_ about him and his soulmate.

_How come you’re in my head now when you never were before?_ they ask, and he blinks.

“Ei-chan, you should eat before it gets cold,” Ibe-san urges, and belatedly Eiji realizes he’s been so focused on talking to his soulmate that he’s just been staring at the tray without unwrapping his fork. “I know it’s airplane food, but it’s a lot worse when it’s not hot.”

Ugh. That’s probably true. Eiji makes a face and pulls his fork from its wrapper and starts poking at his… omelette? Is that an omelette?

_I am travelling,_ he answers, and marvels a little that he can talk with his mouth full but still be perfectly intelligible. _I am flying over America, right now! Are you American?_

_Yeah, I am. That explains it. Where’re you from originally?_

It makes sense that his soulmate is from America, too. Their English is smooth and rounded, with none of the stilted formality that Eiji knows keeps him from being as conversationally fluent as a native speaker. _I am Japanese._

_Oh, cool, like the anime stuff!_

_…Yes._ Eiji tries not to sigh. At least they’re genuinely trying. _Like the anime stuff._

_That’s neat. Where in America are you going?_

Eiji smiles. _New York City! I have heard the Statue of Liberty is very big. I want to see it!_

There’s an undercurrent of surprise that swiftly turns into poorly-masked excitement. _Yeah? Lady Liberty is pretty alright. Definitely a tourist hotspot._

_Oh! You have been to New York?_

… _Dude,_ his soulmate says bluntly, _I_ live _in New York._

What.

WHAT!

Suddenly eager to land _right this second right now,_ Eiji drops his fork into the half-finished “omelette” and jabs excitedly at the screen in the seat back in front of him. There’s still another hour and forty-seven minutes until they land! No! He wants to land and go meet his soulmate _now!_

_You live in New York! I am moving to New York! Well, for a little while? I have an internship! I will be living there for a year! Can I come see you when we land? I—_

He pauses. There’s a little thread of unease radiating from his soulmate now, and it only came up when he said that he wants to meet them. All his doubts and worries from before come rushing back; he doesn’t know anything about what their life has been like, just that it was horribly sad for a long time, and only recently has gotten better. What if they _do_ resent him, or don’t want to be close to him? While rare, it isn’t unheard of for soulmate pairs to be separate for life. What if…

No, there’s no point in dwelling on what-ifs. He should just ask.

_Is… is something wrong?_

The answer is as immediate as it is hollow. _No._

Eiji hesitates for a long moment. _I do not believe you._

Now it’s his soulmate’s turn to take a few heartbeats to respond. When they do, it’s with a deep sigh and _Well, fuck._

Eiji furrows his brow. He wants to help them—he’s always wanted to help them—but in some ways he’s a complete stranger, and he doesn’t know where to begin. Even if they have been connected all their lives. _I… I am sorry, English is not my first language. What does “fuck” mean?_

Now, instead of hesitant and doubtful, his soulmate suddenly seems flustered. _Uh… nothing. Definitely nothing._

_But you keep saying it?_ Eiji frowns.

His soulmate is pointedly silent.

Well, he’s nothing if not persistent and stubborn, and now he wants to know. At least if they’re flustered, they aren’t as upset as they were a few seconds ago, so maybe this is a good conversation to pursue anyway.

So he turns to Ibe-san. “Ibe-san? What does ‘fuck’ mean?”

Ibe-san… deflates. That’s really the only word for how his shoulders sag like he’s just aged ten years, and his brow furrows, and he gawks for a moment before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ei-chan… where did you hear that word?”

“Fuck” really has to be a word with a spectacular meaning, if even Ibe-san won’t just give him a clear answer! “My soulmate said it, but they will not tell me what it means!”

Ibe-san groans and rubs his eyes. “Just don’t say that word, okay?”

Eiji pouts. _You cannot just say a word and not tell me what it means! I asked the head of my internship project what it means, too, and he did not tell me either!_

Now his soulmate is incredulous. _You asked the head of your internship what ‘fuck’ means?_

_Yes. Should I not have?_

_Oh my god, did I just cost you your internship?_

Eiji blinks, looks at Ibe-san again (he’s drinking his coffee and making a face at its bitterness, but otherwise looks unconcerned), and then turns back to picking at his… whatever these potato thingies in his plate are. _No?_

_Oh, thank fu—god. Thank god._

_Why would it have cost me my internship?_ Eiji spears one of the potato things with his fork and takes a bite. It’s already cold. International flights are awful and bad. _Is it a bad word?_

_Yeaaahhhh, just, uh… don’t say it in polite company?_

That, at least, manages to make Eiji smile even though the plane is freezing and the food is terrible and he’s still sleepy. _Yes, okay._

_Y’know, it occurs to me that I don’t know your name. Which is kinda weird, because it feels like I’ve known you forever, but I don’t know what to call you._

Eiji’s smile softens. So his soulmate feels the same way—like they’re old friends. Good. _I am Eiji. What about you?_

_Eiji,_ his soulmate tries, and Eiji suddenly aches to squeeze their hands, because their voice saying his name in his head with a clumsy American accent is the most wonderful, endearing sound he can imagine. _I’m Aslan._

_Aslan,_ Eiji repeats, mouthing along as he stares at the flight map. _Aslan. It is nice to finally get to speak to you. I have always wanted to._

He’s always dreamed, desperately, of reaching out and finally being able to hear his soulmate whenever they cried, at weird hours of the night or into the morning, hurting and hurting and hurting. He’s always wanted to soothe them and promise that one day, he’d be there, and he’d take care of them, and everything would be okay. Lately he’s thought those were nothing but childish dalliances, that his real soulmate would never get along with him because he can scarcely get along with himself, and that their problems would eclipse his own so much that they would see him having his stupid tiny struggles and just walk away and find someone who could better help them.

He’s always wished he could be someone that would make his soulmate proud. His ankle saw fit to ensure that _that_ wish will never come true, but hearing Aslan’s voice makes him long for it all the same. He wants to make Aslan proud. He wants to take care of Aslan. He wants to make Aslan feel loved.

_I’ve always wanted to talk to you, too,_ Aslan confesses, as if it’s a shy little secret. _…This is nice._

_Can I see you, when we come to New York?_ Eiji asks again, blunt this time.

Aslan hesitates for a long moment. _I… don’t know yet. I want to see you, but… there’s… I don’t know if I can, yet._

There’s a churning swirling mess of tangled emotions trying to drown the words of that sentence—Eiji can feel it, stronger than ever before, and he realizes abruptly that he needs to learn to separate his own emotions from Aslan’s, for the first time in his life, before they both overwhelm each other—and he worries. Is something keeping Aslan from coming to him? Is he safe?

_Are you okay?_

Aslan hesitates again, so long that Eiji starts to fret that maybe he shouldn’t have been so blunt, or that he should have phrased it differently, or just not asked such a wide yet narrow question. _I dunno,_ he finally says. _But… with you around, now? I think… I will be._

* * *

Eiji settles into his new apartment without too much fuss. It’s not large—he doesn’t think he could afford a large space in New York City in a million years—but it’s _his,_ at least for the next year, and as he stares at its walls—blank, begging for some kind of personal touch—a feeling of freedom drifts up from somewhere deep in his chest and settles over him like a blanket. For the first time in his life, he has a space for himself, away from family and expectations that hang like yokes around his neck.

It’s all his own. Ibe-san is coming to visit later, but right now he’s seeing his soulmate—an American named Max who proudly introduced himself as Ibe-san’s best friend and ruffled Eiji’s hair—and Eiji can do anything he wants.

Freedom bubbles into giddiness, and he flops back on his newly made bed and giggles gleefully at the ceiling. He has a camera and a list of textbooks to buy tomorrow and an empty kitchen he needs to stock with groceries, and a place all for himself! America really _is_ the fresh start Ibe-san said it could be!

_Seems like someone’s in a good mood._

Aslan’s touch in his mind comes as a surprise, but a welcome one. He’s a little tentative, Eiji notes, as if he’s not sure if Eiji would want to talk to him—which is ridiculous! Eiji wants to talk to him every hour of every day for the rest of his life, he’s his _soulmate!_ —but happy, and a little amused. That’s probably fair. Eiji’s busy rolling around on his bed and laughing like a dumb toddler, so some amusement at his expense is warranted.

_Yes!_ he thinks back. _I am in a very good mood! I just finished unpacking the last of my things. It took all of yesterday and today to figure out where to put everything—this is a small apartment and if I let it get cluttered it will be a pain—and I made a grocery list and I have to buy textbooks tomorrow and check on my class schedule and make sure I schedule my hours with Ibe-san around it, and then I need to make a list of meals for the week and start cooking!_

Aslan sounds nonplussed. _You’re happy ‘cuz you have a giant list of chores?_

Eiji laughs out loud. Put that way, it does sound ridiculous. _No! I am happy because I am the only one here to tell me what to do!_

_You literally have a boss, but okay._

Eiji laughs again. _Yes, but only for an internship. He does not tell me what to eat or when to clean or whether he is disappointed in me for—_

He shuts that thought off immediately, glancing with distaste at his traitorous ankle, the one that snapped under him and ruined everything. He didn’t mean to bring that up. It’s just too easy to fall into thinking about things like normal when he’s in his own head, without considering that he’s sharing thoughts and feelings with Aslan…

Maybe he should start actually practicing that mental block Tou-san taught him. He’s never used it before, but he’s never been in close proximity to Aslan, either.

_…Eiji?_

_Sorry,_ he thinks immediately. _I should not have…_

_Jeez, you apologize way too much._ There’s the impression of a short sigh, or maybe the shake of a head. _If you don’t wanna talk about something you don’t have to. You don’t need to apologize to me for that. Lord knows I’ve got plenty of shit I don’t wanna chat about, too._

Eiji rolls over and buries his face in a pillow. “Urgh…”

_Thank you for being so understanding,_ he replies, pushing aside his annoyance with himself to focus on appreciating Aslan. Aslan, who has been through so much and yet remains so sweet and kind. Every hour they talk only increases Eiji’s admiration for his soulmate.

Aslan feels a little flustered when he answers. _It’s nothing. Just being a decent person._

_Well, I like you for it,_ Eiji promises. It’s only been two days—three if he counts the day on the plane—since he started talking to Aslan, but he’s already picked up that affection gets him embarrassed and flustered easily, which is ridiculously cute. He doesn’t know what Aslan looks like, but his mental picture includes a pink blush, for sure, and adorable smiles.

Sure enough, Aslan gets even more embarrassed through their link. _Yeah, well, I… like you too. Are you always this sappy?_

_I can stop,_ Eiji starts to offer, immediately contrite, but Aslan cuts him off.

_Don’t you fucking dare apologize for being cute or else I’ll—_

_You think I am being cute?_ Eiji rolls over and wheezes softly, trying to breathe air that isn’t filtered through a pillow, and feels his smile coming back. Aslan is sweet and easy to tease. _Aw, Aslan!_

_Yeah, right! Shut up and go do nerd things, like getting excited over chores._

Eiji giggles to himself and hugs the pillow to his chest. He is in America, his stupid ankle can hold his weight, and his soulmate is the cutest boy alive. There is no reason he should be dwelling on the past or on being a failure in Japan. He’s nothing in America, which is exciting, because it means he can be _anything._

And for now, he’s gonna be a photographer, and a student! Who knows what cool things he might see? This is _New York!_ All the cool TV shows are set here.

_Hold up, hold up, hold up. Did you seriously just think that New York is gonna be a good time because of_ cool TV shows? _Are you serious, Eiji? I’m gonna lose my shit oh my god—_

Eiji is hard-pressed not to stick out his tongue even if Aslan can’t see him. _It looks like CSI New York!_

_Well, yeah, but—god!_ Aslan is laughing, through their bond; Eiji cherishes the warmth it brings and hugs his pillow again, smiling dreamily. _You’re such a tourist! I have to take you to actual good places around here, not just the tourist traps, okay?_

Eiji’s eyes widen. Aslan wants to take him places? Aslan wants to take him places! _Yes, I would love that!_

There’s a pause.

_…Thanks for giving me time,_ Aslan finally says, softer, more hesitant. _I know it’s stupid that I… don’t know if I’m ready to meet you, after you came all this way, but. Thanks, anyway._

_Oh, Aslan…_ Eiji hugs his pillow harder, wishing it were his soulmate so he could express all the love in his heart physically, not just through their bond.

He remembers days full of tears and suffering and sorrow, remembers curling up in bed with Kaa-san or Tou-san and trying his hardest to send as much love as he possibly could through the bond to soothe his poor soulmate. It was bad enough just knowing that “his soulmate”, whoever they were, was suffering, but now that he’s put a name and a personality to the child being hurt, it’s worse. If he’s still working through his feelings about all that, that’s fine! He doesn’t need to be magically ready to love Eiji. Whatever he is willing to give, Eiji will be happy with that.

_It is not stupid,_ he finally says, hoping Aslan can feel even a fraction of how loved he is. _Take all the time you need. I will be waiting when you are ready, if you ever are. And if you are not, that is okay, too._

It would make him horribly sad, but it would be okay. He would rather have Aslan be happy than force him to see someone he has mixed feelings toward and isn’t ready to see. It can’t be easy, knowing Eiji witnessed all his roughest moments, in at least some way.

_Okay. Well. I’m definitely gonna be ready to see you someday, because I really wanna. I just… don’t know when._

Eiji offers the ghost of a smile. _Whenever you are, I will be here._

_I know._ There’s a tiny nudge of affection that comes with the words, shy like Aslan doesn’t know if Eiji will want it; Eiji reaches for it and soaks it up like parched desert sand in the rain. They linger like that for a moment, Aslan whispering _loveyou-loveyou_ through their bond as Eiji drinks it in, before Aslan changes the subject. _So. You gonna get groceries? You should, before you starve. Can’t have that. Or d’you want takeout? I can recommend you some places._

_I should get groceries,_ Eiji says, putting the pillow aside and getting to his feet. _Takeout will not last me as long._

_Sheesh, so pragmatic,_ Aslan mutters, but there’s a smile in his voice, and Eiji smiles back.

* * *

Things settle into a routine after a week or two. Eiji has morning classes on Mondays through Thursdays and spends his afternoons working with Ibe-san, practicing photoshoot composition and learning how to fiddle with every setting on his camera to get the lighting and focus _just_ right. Friday through Sunday are free days, which he spends cooking meals for the week and doing groceries and exploring New York. And, of course, talking to Aslan.

_It is funny,_ he says, meandering through campus for a leisurely walk. The weather is lovely today, just cool enough that he needs a sweater instead of boiling hot like it was the past few days, and he’s enjoying the refreshing breeze. _Last month I had no idea what your voice sounds like, but now I cannot imagine spending days without talking to you._

Somehow, even that innocent of a statement still gets Aslan a bit flustered. _Yeah, well, guess it’s gonna suck when you go back to Japan next year, huh?_

Eiji pauses, frowning. _Maybe I will not go back so soon. I do not have to transfer back to a Japanese school._

Now Aslan grows serious, instead of just griping because he’s embarrassed. _You shouldn’t put your life on hold just for me, Eiji._

_You are my soulmate,_ Eiji answers tartly. _If I want to be close to you, and if you also want me to be close to you, then I can choose to do whatever I want._

_God, you’re stubborn._

Eiji snorts to himself. Nakamura-san, his coach, used to say much the same. So does Kaa-san. Maybe he is a bit on the stubborn side sometimes. So what? It’s not like his stubbornness with practicing until he could consistently land higher and higher jumps got him anywhere. Stubborn or not, he’s forever doomed to be second-rate and washed-up, all the way on the other side of the world.

_You’re getting melancholy again,_ Aslan notes. _What’s up?_

_Nothing important,_ Eiji sighs, mentally reprimanding himself for being so self-pitying while Aslan is paying attention. He refocuses on his surroundings instead, looking up at the green leaves on the trees overhead and the dappled sunlight that filters through. There’s a group of students sitting in the grass, laughing and talking, and he looks over a little wistfully before he keeps walking.

New York is nice, but he’s alone here, aside from Ibe-san, and there’s a part of him that craves friends his own age. His teammates probably don’t miss him, but he misses them. Misses feeling like a part of something.

Aslan is the only person he has, really. And he _loves_ Aslan, which is why it hurts all the more that he’s not sure if he wants to see him yet. When they talk, Aslan is fond and sweet, teasing but kind, and it really feels like they’re best friends already, but something is still holding him back, and that makes Eiji kind of sad. He wants to meet him, badly. He won’t—he isn’t going to push, because he couldn’t do that to his Aslan after knowing how _good_ he is, despite how much he’s been hurt—but he wishes they could.

_If it makes you sad, it’s important, but you don’t gotta talk about it. That’s okay._ Aslan hesitates for a moment, uncertain but on the brink of spilling more, and Eiji waits patiently. _I mean… I like when you’re happy, and—wait, shit, no, that came out wrong. I want you to be happy, but you don’t have to like. Make yourself stop being sad for my sake. Does that make sense? I dunno if I’m saying things in a way that like… works, but, uh…_

Touched, Eiji can’t help smiling. He loves his soulmate with his entire heart. All these years he’s known, deep down, that whoever they were must have been a good and kind person, and now talking to Aslan he knows he was right, all along. _You said it fine, I understand what you mean. Thank you, Aslan._

_Anytime._ Aslan seems very relieved. _You, um. You spent a lot of years taking care of me, even before you knew me, so… I don’t mind returning the favor. In fact I kinda wanna, if you ever need it. Or want it. Or—whatever, you know what I mean, I’m shit at words and I dunno how to do emotions but—_

Oh, Eiji wants to _hold_ him, so so so tight. He isn’t resentful that Eiji had a happier childhood? He feels _taken care of?_ That’s exactly what he wanted to do, and he’s so happy to know it worked that he could cry, and, and he loves his soulmate with his whole, entire heart!

_I am glad,_ he manages, heart full near to bursting, _that I could be there for you. You do not owe me any favors! I will always take care of you, as long as you want me to._

_Oh,_ Aslan says, and his mess of embarrassment and happiness gives Eiji the distinct impression of him hiding his face in his hands, cheeks red. _Wow._

Eiji meanders through campus a little longer, loneliness at least temporarily assuaged by the balmy feeling of knowing that he just made Aslan happy, and glances at one of the buildings he’s passing. It’s where the student learning center is located, the place for tutoring and getting tutored by fellow students, and he contemplates it for a second before going in. He doesn’t need help so far, but it couldn’t hurt to check out his resources for later. Especially because he has to take a math class and it looks like it gets harder, on the second half of the syllabus.

He stops in front of the big bulletin board at the front entrance and scans the multitude of flyers pinned to it. There’s offers from people who can tutor others, and there’s signs begging for help being tutored. One of them, printed on bright blue paper, catches his eye: it opens with a picture of a boy who has to be no more than thirteen or so holding a cat, and in all capital letters it reads, **PLEASE HELP MY DUMB BABY COUSIN (HIGH SCHOOLER) PASS HISTORY.** In smaller print but still caps it adds, **EVEN HIS CAT IS DESPAIRING AT HIS REPORT CARD, AND SHE’S ILLITERATE.**

Eiji almost laughs. There’s a [paragraph](https://twitter.com/jumpforjo/status/1089762413321375746) under it that elaborates: the cousin in question is named Sing, he can’t focus on long texts to save his life, and he’s struggling mightily with his history class. There’s also a number to text if interested.

Well… he’s pretty good at history, or at least he was in Japan, and he likes reading. And tutoring a high schooler would be a good way to practice his English, too, right?

Yeah, why not! He’s here in America on his own and he doesn’t have to make anyone but himself happy. He can try it!

Mind made, Eiji hums to himself and gets out his phone to make a new contact, types up a message, and sends it to Shorter Wong.

* * *

_One month later..._

* * *

 

“Ugh, Shorter, you’re the _worst!”_ Sing complains, shoving his cousin’s hand off his head. “I combed my hair!”

“Yeah, and then you put a helmet on and rode a motorbike.” Shorter grins unrepentantly down at him— _goodness,_ he’s so tall, Eiji still can’t get over that—and pats his head, laughing when Sing slaps his wrist. “Hey, rude! Don’t worry, you might actually reach my head one day.”

“You suck.” Sing huffs and marches over to Eiji, standing at his side and glaring at Shorter. “Family ended with Shorter. Eiji is my new cousin now.”

“O-oh?” Eiji blinks, taken aback. “I did not ask to get drawn into the middle of this.”

Shorter snorts. “Ha! Rejected by your new cousin! Oooh, does it hurt?”

“I did not say I reject him!” Eiji places a hand on Sing’s shoulder quickly. “I will happily take him. Even if I was not asked.”

“Wow, you baby thief.” Shorter shakes his head. “And here I was about to _thank_ you for all your help, ‘cuz I think he might actually pass his test Monday, but you’ve stolen him. Now I can’t thank you, because you're a baby thief.”

“He will do wonderfully!” Eiji beams down at his pupil. “I am sure of it.”

“Yeah, I’ll do _fine.”_ Sing crosses his arms. “No thanks to Shorter. I’m bad at history but Shorter’s even worse—can you imagine how dumb he is, if I’m this bad at it and he still can’t be any help to me?”

“Hey!” Shorter looks comically offended. “You still want a ride home or not, you little punk?”

Sing responds with a smug nod. “Nadia would beat your ass if you left me here and you know it.”

Before Shorter can reply, the barista calls out, “Sixty-eight, sixty-nine!”, pushing three smoothies into the pickup area. Shorter whips around to stare at Eiji as they troop over to get their cups.

“Holy shit. You were right after us, that’s right… You got _order number sixty-nine?”_

Eiji blinks, looking first at his receipt and then at the sticker on his pink, lovely Strawberry Sunrise. “Yes?”

“Ohhhhh my god,” Shorter groans. “We were so close, Sing.”

“Rip,” Sing says, not very sympathetically, and sticks a straw into his pineapple smoothie.

They walk a few blocks to the nearest little park to sit and enjoy the autumn air—it’s late afternoon and the sun is pleasantly warm without being too hot, and the smoothies make a perfect addition—as a reward for finishing Sing’s latest chapter. They’ve been hunched over books all afternoon, so this is a nice reprieve.

Sing and Shorter bicker good-naturedly for most of the walk, while Eiji laughs at their antics. They’re both good people, and he counts them as his first real friends in America. Sometimes while Sing is in school but Eiji is done for the day, Shorter picks him up on his motorcycle and takes him to try different restaurants or cafés in the area, including his own family’s. He’s had dinner there once, with Sing and Shorter and Shorter’s older sister Nadia, and it felt so homelike and warm that for a moment he forgot he was a world away from his family.

They reach the park and Shorter immediately plops down in the grass, leaning back against a tree. Sing looks at him with a bit of distaste.

“You know, a dog has probably peed there.”

Eiji, about to sit next to him, freezes.

Shorter shrugs, unperturbed. “Sweet, adds fertilizer to the grass! Maybe that’s why it’s so springy and not dead yet.”

“You really don’t care about sitting in _dog pee?”_ Sing scoffs. “Gross.”

“Dude,” Shorter says, looking at his cousin over the tops of his shades, “when I was seven, I used to help Nadia change your stinky diapers. Dog pee doesn’t got _shit_ on you.”

Sing squawks, face going red, and Eiji laughs. He remembers when Nahoko was a baby, too. “My little sister one time did not realize she had to go to the bathroom soon enough, so she just did it all over the living room floor. I was eight and I told my mother we should return her.”

“Wow, sounds like Sing,” Shorter immediately deadpans. Sing kicks at his knee.

Dog pee or not, Eiji sits down in the grass too, enjoying the breeze. His smoothie is really good, not too sweet and very fruity, and the weather is really nice—today has been a good day. And he can just wash these pants when he gets back to his place.

Sighing, Sing plops down, too. “My soulmate agrees you’re gross, Shorter.”

“Yeah, well, your soulmate is a little bitch, so I don’t really care.” Shorter pushes his shades back up his nose. “Tell him I said that if you want.”

“You do not like his soulmate?” Eiji cocks his head, surprised. “Why?”

“Eh.” Shorter waves a hand. “He’s a little bitch. Kinda full of himself, real dramatic. He’s a real fashionista, too. Also obnoxious.”

“He’s getting better,” Sing says primly. “And he’s not that bad, when you get to know him.”

“I _guess._ ” Shorter shrugs. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“What about your soulmate, Shorter?” Eiji asks. “Do you know them yet?”

“Yeah!” Shorter brightens. “They don’t live around here, but we chat a lot. They’re finishing up school somewhere that way,” and he gestures vaguely west, “and thinking about coming to New York after that. You?”

Just at the thought of Aslan, Eiji feels a surge of warmth bubble up in his chest. He sips his smoothie to quell it as best as he can. “Oh—we have not met in person, but we also talk a lot! His name is Aslan and he is absolutely _wonderful!_ Sometimes he helps me with my math homework—he is so smart, you know! He downplays it a lot but he is brilliant, and also so sweet. He lives in New York, too!”

“Then how come you haven’t met up yet?” Sing slurps more pineapple. “No better time than the present, right?”

“He is shy.” Eiji tips his head a little. “And I want to give him time. I know I love him, so I do not mind waiting as long as he needs. He is very sweet and very smart and makes me laugh when I am homesick, so I know he deserves the world.”

Oh, that’s so mushy. How embarrassing. But then again, he can’t be too embarrassed about loving Aslan.

“That’s so _cute,_ ” Shorter coos. “Awwwww. He sounds like a great guy, and a real catch! Glad you’ve got that.”

“Me too,” Eiji hums. Aslan is busy right now, or he’d give him a poke and send him some love. He can do that tonight, before bed, instead.

“One of my friends is a total disaster. I pray for his soulmate on the daily.” Shorter glances at Sing. “You probably already know who I’m talking about, right?”

“Ash?” Sing asks.

“Bingo.” Shorter fires him two finger guns. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy, but yesterday I went over to visit at two in the afternoon, and his dumb ass was just getting out of bed. He was sitting there having gummy worms for breakfast, Eiji. Gummy worms.”

Eiji shudders, horrified. “That is basically just pure sugar…”

“I _know!”_ Shorter laughs. “I told him to at least drink some milk with them and he told me to fuck off. Disaster man, I’m tellin’ you.”

“Well, that seems rather rude.” Eiji shakes his head. From what he gleaned from a Google search (mainly Wikipedia and Urban Dictionary), “fuck” is just a generic rude word in English. Wikipedia described it as _obscene._ “Maybe he would be less snippy if he ate real food for breakfast.”

“HA!” Shorter claps. “I’m telling him that next time. Get wrecked, Ash. Dragged by a stranger!”

“He’ll grumble,” Sing warns.

“He always grumbles.” Shorter shrugs. “He’ll be fine.”

In Eiji’s mind, Aslan stirs, apparently taking a break from whatever he was working on, and Eiji perks up immediately. _Hey, you busy?_

_Not really! Just talking with some friends. How are you?_

_Good. Thinking of you, so I thought I’d say hi._ Aslan hesitates. _I’ll let you go, though, we can talk when you’re free._

_Okay!_ Eiji sends him the big bubble of warmth that welled up, full of love and affection. _I missed you too! We can talk soon._

Aslan gets all flustered again, floundering, but sends a little brush of happiness back before he retreats again. A smile tugs at Eiji’s lips.

“Oooh, Eiji,” Shorter teases. “Talkin’ to your soulmate?”

Eiji feels his cheeks heat. “How did you tell?”

“You got all blushy.” Sing slurps the last of his smoothie and sets the empty cup down. “Your face is kinda red.”

“Oh.” Eiji touches his cheek. “Oops.”

Both of them laugh, and Eiji laughs too, sipping his Strawberry Sunrise. The breeze stirs the trees and grass above them, and he looks up, content. It really has been a nice day. It’s been a nice _week._

In fact, it’s true, what Ibe-san said to him, all those months ago: America _can_ be his new beginning. For the first time in months, he remembers what it feels like to be full of optimism and hope.

It feels good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jo art, again: [twitter](https://twitter.com/jumpforjo/status/1089762413321375746) and [tumblr](http://jumpforjo.tumblr.com/post/182365187889/here-comes-a-new-chapter-of-eijispumpkins) please appreciate shorter's attempt at graphic design
> 
> next time: shorter knocks some sense into his best friend. eiji gets an american fast food experience.
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://eijispumpkin.tumblr.com), [twitter](http://twitter.com/songbirdrimi), or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/SongbirdRimi)!!


	3. i held your hand under the moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash does some thinking. Shorter and Eiji take on a hedge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [JO ART RIGHT HERE!!!!!](https://twitter.com/jumpforjo/status/1094781839842136065) get yourselves a Good Meal folks!!! contains spoilers for the chapter tho ofc hahaha
> 
> warnings: ash ruminates on his fucked-up past. nothing graphic, just mentions.
> 
> also, i realized while looking at my tags again that the "golzine fucked off to hell where he belongs" may have been misleading. he existed for a short while in this fic, but then i wrote my own self-insert in and shot him. so he's still part of ash's Big Trauma™ because that's how ash really got involved in being in a gang, but also he's a dead motherfucker, as he should be. he's only briefly alluded to, but he did... exist. unfortunately.

There’s a rap on the door, three cursory knocks, before it opens and Alex’s head pops in.

“Morning, Boss. Good time?”

Ash looks up from his phone—Eiji texted him a picture of a flower by a sidewalk at the asscrack of dawn with a bunch of hearts and the sun emoji, and it’s stupid but he’s still staring at it. But there’s more important stuff that needs his attention, so he puts it face-down on the couch and nods. “Yeah, come on in. How’s it going?”

“S’alright.” Alex closes the door behind himself and plops down on the chair across from him. “Kong said he met up with a couple of Cain Blood’s guys, and while they were out for drinks they talked about the same old same old. According to them, there’s nothing new to report—seems like Arthur’s laying low.”

“Yeah, either that, or he’s got three separate gangs lying for him.” Ash sighs. “Well, I guess Occam would say we’ve got time to take a breather. When his ugly ass shows up again, I’ll deal with him.”

“Yeah.” Alex rolls his shoulders. “The rest of us won’t hesitate, either. After what he pulled last time, I don’t think anyone’s gonna bother to hear him out.”

Last time. Last time, when Arthur let his stupid fucking vindictive streak run so rampant that he tried to kill Skip just to get at Ash. Ash has never hated him more than in that moment. Thank god Alex was there—Skip is fine, came out fists swinging, but it was a close shave. Closer than Ash would like.

“Yeah. They better not.”

He drums his fingers on the armrest, crossing one leg over the other. It’s so damn annoying how fixated on proving himself as _better_ Arthur is. Doesn’t he have anything better to do with his fucking life? He can’t outfight or outplan Ash and he knows it, so he resorts to trying to outdo him in cruelty and vengeance. As if Ash cares about this one-sided rivalry he’s set up. But Arthur harming innocents just to fuel his own ego is where Ash draws the line.

“Maybe he’s finally gotten the memo that none of us are ever gonna listen to him.” Alex sighs and rubs his chin, looking out the window wistfully. Ash snorts—if only. “Maybe he finally figured it out and he’s gonna fuck off and leave us alone.”

“Yeah, and maybe pigs will grow wings to fly him out of Manhattan.” Ash rolls his eyes. Expecting anything but the absolute worst from Arthur always ends in disappointment. “We can’t afford to let our guards down, no matter how nice it might sound. Can never have expectations low enough for this shithead.”

Alex lets out a short bark of laughter. “Yes, Boss. True that. Never thought he’d try to attack Skip before, but I guess I shouldn’t have assumed he had any morals to begin with.”

“He’s a dirty cheater through and through.” Ash shrugs, glancing at the back of his phone. He doesn’t really give two shits about Arthur right now. He just wants to look at the picture Eiji sent him again and go back to fantasizing about what life might be like if he could be worthy of Eiji, could really be his soulmate without holding him back and dragging him down to a life like this. It’s a cruel joke that just as he was daydreaming, Alex came in to report. “He wants to feel good about himself, and he doesn’t care what he has to do to do that.”

Alex nods. “Yeah. Should never have had higher expectations of him, honestly. Scum like him…”

“Hey.” Ash looks over at him, suddenly curious and a little afraid to know. “What’s your soulmate make of all this? They know you’re in with the street gangs?”

Alex looks a bit surprised, eyebrows rising. “Oh—yeah, she knows. She, uh… she worries? But she doesn’t like… judge, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s good.” Ash considers that for a few seconds. Eiji wouldn’t judge, he knows that much—Eiji is loving and kind and despite the underlying sadness in him, full of light. But he _would_ worry, if Ash told him everything. “D’you ever feel bad for making her worry?”

“Aw, jeez, Boss.” Alex rubs the back of his neck. “Sure, yeah, but I’m not about to walk away from you and the boys. I got a place here. Whatever’s fated to happen with me and her will happen, but you guys are my family.”

“Yeah, ‘course. I didn’t think you were thinking of leaving. Just…” Ash sighs. “Just thinking, I guess. In general.”

Alex looks at him in that way that seems distinctly like he sees more than Ash wants him to. It’s the same look that made Ash select him as his right hand man, but at times like this, when it’s turned on him, he wants to hide. “Are you… having problems with your soulmate?”

“No!” Ash shakes his head immediately, then groans and slumps back against the couch. “Not problems. I’ve just got a lot to think about. On my end, not on his.”

“Does he not know?” Alex’s voice is kind and understanding, like a friend rather than a subordinate. The blurring of the lines is both tantalizing and terrifying—Ash stands on the brink, not knowing whether he wants to retreat back to safe ground, or to leap. “About the gang?”

Ash hesitates.

The familiarity of aloofness beckons, enticing, and it’s hard to resist its call. But Eiji would want him to take the jump. Eiji would want him to soar.

“He doesn’t.” Ash lets out a slow breath. “I don’t know what to say. How to tell him. He… He’s…not like us. Not like me.”

“Well, yeah, Boss.” Alex smiles, soft and encouraging. Friendly. “That’s kinda what soulmates are _about,_ y’know? Bringing people together despite their differences. He wouldn’t be your soulmate if he was the kind of guy who’d judge you.”

“I know he wouldn’t judge me!” Ash bites his lip, surprised by his own vehemence. It’s just—it’s important that Alex knows that Eiji is _wonderful,_ not someone who Ash could ever doubt like that. “I just… think he deserves a safer life.”

Alex makes a soft sound of understanding. “You’re afraid of Arthur targeting our soulmates to get at you.”

Ash doesn’t acknowledge him. The silence speaks volumes.

“I get that.” Alex blows out a breath. “I dunno. He would, if he could. Guess that just means we make sure he can’t, right?”

Ash blows out another breath. He doesn’t know what Eiji looks like, but just the thought of Arthur getting his hands on him is too infuriating and horrifying to consider for more than a few seconds. It’s bad enough that he feels Eiji perk up in his mind, sending him a gentle, inquisitive prod.

 _I’m fine,_ he sends back immediately. _Just frustrated._

Eiji responds with a bubble of affection and reassurance, no real words but the impression of a smile, a hug, and encouragement.

If Arthur ever tries to lay a finger on him, Ash will kill him.

“Yeah,” he finally says, looking back at Alex. “Guess so.”

* * *

[02:49] shorter:  
do u kno how to repair knit sweaters?

[02:50] ash:  
not really??? why are you asking me not nadia

[02:50] shorter:  
its not my sweater its my friends… but i tore it on accident :(  
nadia would kill me if i told her bc she loves him  
its the cute intl student i told u abt, whos tutoring sing

[02:51] ash:  
and how did you manage to tear someone else’s sweater?

[02:51] shorter:  
WELL FUNNY STORY, SO…  
hes like barely bigger than sing! and i mentioned that  
and he was like no, youre just tall  
and i said hes still sing-sized, as in i could probably throw him over a hedge  
and he said he bet i couldn’t  
so then we had to go find a hedge so we went to the park

[02:53] ash:  
oh my fucking god

[02:53] shorter:  
and he was right because i threw him into it instead of over it  
and while he was trying to get out his sweater tore  
so i feel bad :( it was kinda my fault

[02:53] ash:  
“kinda”?  
try “entirely”?  
you’re such a dumbass this is exactly what you deserve  
ask nadia. i fucking dare you.

[02:54] shorter:  
SHES GONNA KILL MEEEE  
she loves eiji she thinks hes the cutest thing ever and he loves her cooking  
so she loves him extra!!!!!

[02:54] ash:  
eiji?  
last name isnt okumura by any chance is it?

[02:54] shorter:  
yea it is! howd u kno????

[02:56] shorter:  
hewwo?????

[03:02] shorter:  
ash explain your fucking psychic powers dammit

[03:10] shorter:  
nadias gonna murder me in ten minutes when i get home and youre IGNORING me???  
some best friend u are smh

[03:14] ash:  
yea sorry i just had to wrap my fucking head around the fact that  
you threw my SOULMATE into a fucking BUSH???????

[03:14] shorter:  
what.  
WHAT

[03:19] shorter:  
ASH P LYNX YOU STOP LEAVING ME ON READ  
AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF RIGHT THE FUCK NOW

[03:20] ash:  
what’s the p stand for

[03:20] shorter:  
PHUCKING  
because youre a PHUCKING ASSHOLE

[03:20] ash:  
aren’t you supposed to be getting murdered rn

[03:20] shorter:  
youre the literal worst

[03:21] ash:  
✔️ - Read at 03:21 PM

[03:21] shorter:  
FUCK OFF

[03:21] ash:  
*phuck

[03:21] shorter:  
🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

* * *

It takes a day for Shorter to resurrect himself after Nadia kills him. Ash knows this because it’s only been one day when he gets dragged away from his breakfast (is it still breakfast at one in the afternoon?) by loud banging on the door.

“Dude. _Dude!”_ Shorter barges in without even a _hello,_ the second Ash opens it. “Your fucking soulmate is _Eiji?_ And you didn’t _tell me?”_

“Well, I didn’t fucking know you were friends with him!” Ash swats his arm and shuts the door behind him, while Shorter kicks off his shoes and flops down onto the couch. “You’ve been friends with him this whole time and you didn’t tell me either! So don’t give me that shit!”

“Touché.” Shorter fires off a two-fingered salute. “Okay, but you _have_ to tell me everything now. Did you know he was in the city? Have you guys met? Have I been telling you about each other without you realizing it this entire time?”

Ash groans. This is why he didn’t tell anyone, even Shorter, that Eiji’s been in town for two months…

Raking a hand through his hair, he sinks down onto the couch next to Shorter and counts questions off on his fingers. “Yes, I knew. No, we haven’t. Yes, you have.”

“Whaaaat!” Shorter lets out a bark of laughter. “Oh my _god,_ that’s so good. Oh my god, wait, I’ve told him about you and—shit, Ash, I’m so sorry—”

“What did you _tell_ him?” Ash hisses, already feeling his face heat as alarm spikes through him. “Shorter, what the fuck?”

“I told him the truth!” Shorter cackles. “That you’re a fucking disaster of a human being! That you live on cup noodles and Chang Dai takeout, you fell down the stairs once because you hadn’t had coffee yet but you deny it happening, and you like to sleep past noon!”

Relief crashes through him so hard he struggles to even be indignant. Shorter didn’t tell Eiji about… the rest. About the violence and the death and the—the rest of it. Just stupid mundane details that don’t… that aren’t… things that would worry Eiji. That would keep him up all night, questioning what kind of person the universe saw fit to pair him with.

It’s selfish. Ash _knows_ it’s selfish. But he’s scared that Eiji’s only tolerating him, most of the time, because most of the time his life has fucking sucked and he’s dragged Eiji through the worst of his emotional muck with him, and Eiji never got a choice in it. And he doesn’t want any of this shit to become the straw that breaks the camel’s back. He doesn’t want Eiji to decide he’s more trouble than he’s worth.

“Holy shit, I spent like, two months roasting you to your _soulmate.”_ Shorter laughs, clearly unrepentant. “Whoops.”

Ash pushes his thoughts away and gives him a dirty look. “‘Whoops’, my ass! This wouldn’t have fucking happened if you could just, like, not roast me to any random person who listens!”

Shorter grins, the same grin that Sing always smacks him for. Ash thinks he understands Sing better now. “Well, like, I _could_ not roast you, but where would the fun be in that?”

“You suck,” he grumbles, relaxing against the cushions again. “Now I really never can see him. Or I’ll have to look him in the eye and know that he already knows that I’m apparently a ‘fucking disaster of a human being’. You just _had_ to sabotage me, huh?”

“Hey, hey, hey. No.”

Shorter sits up and twists around to pin him with a sharp look, taking off his shades and setting them on a side table. His grin fades away into something serious enough to make Ash want to fidget, sitting there on the receiving end of that much intensity. He doesn’t, of course, just stares right back, until Shorter sighs and continues.

“What’s up with that, bro? He’s right there. You could have gone to see him at any point. And you know he’s here! Why’re you avoiding him?”

“How do you know I’m avoiding him and he’s not avoiding me?” Ash asks, defensive.

Shorter looks extremely unimpressed. “Because he talks about you all the fucking time, dumbass. Like, never shuts up about you. Including the fact that he wants to see you. Which he told me, with his words, like a normal person, instead of certain idiots I know.”

“Can you do me a favor and stop roasting me while you’re trying to get me to talk about my fucking emotions?” Ash huffs, blowing a lock of hair out of his face petulantly. “’Cuz it makes me not wanna talk about my emotions.”

Shorter raises his hands in mock-surrender. “Sure, sure, yeah. But seriously, dude. What’s up?”

Ash looks away.

“Ash.”

Ash takes a deep breath. Lets it out. Words aren’t coming to him. Funny, that—everyone knows him as a slick talker, always with a quick jibe at the ready or a smartass comment, but when it comes to Eiji, all his words fail him. All his vocabulary flees, lost in a desert of confusion, where the shifting sand is all the messy emotions that he can’t seem to sort out, and he wanders around not knowing even where to begin to search for water.

He wants Eiji. But if Eiji sees the real him, he won’t want him back.

He’s already caused Eiji so much suffering. And all Eiji gave him for it was love. He doesn’t want to hurt him anymore. It’s better this way, keeping his distance. It’s better like this.

“Ash…”

Ash stares at the carpet under his feet. There’s a slight stain from the bottle of Coke that Bones spilled there three weeks ago. No matter how much he scrubbed, it never came out. Ash just told him to leave it. Sometimes shit happens, and the things involved are never quite the same afterwards.

(He thinks back, briefly, to being eight, to pulling the trigger for the first time.)

(Thinks back to the first time Golzine promised him they’d take _good care_ of him. Touched his cheek and made him shudder.)

(Thinks back to the mafia’s internal collapse under too much top-heavy politics. To his narrow escape onto the streets, forgotten as anything more than the late former leader’s favorite pet.)

(Thinks back to saying goodbye to Griffin, for the last time—)

“Aslan!”

Ash is yanked out of his thoughts with a gasp, jerking around to stare at Shorter with wide, wide eyes. How did… Who…

“That’s your real name, right?” Shorter asks, gentler. “Aslan Callenreese?”

“How—how do you know that…?”

Shorter smiles. He rarely ever looks at Ash this softly, with this much compassion and care and understanding. That usually stays below the surface, though Ash has always known it’s there—it says _something_ about this moment, that Shorter is being so open, but Ash is too busy trying to remember how to breathe deeply to think about it.

“Eiji.”

Ash swallows. “Eiji told you my name?”

“Eiji told me more than just your name.” Shorter settles back against the armrest, laying his legs out along the couch. He doesn’t stretch out enough to lay his feet in Ash’s lap. Ash appreciates the space more than he could ever know. “He talks about you a lot. I just didn’t know it was you he was talking about.”

He swallows hard against the lump in his throat. “He talks about me?”

Shorter nods. “All the time. Seriously, Ash… why are you avoiding him?”

Ash looks away again, eyes falling back to the stain on the carpet. “I… don’t want him to feel obligated to love me. I’ve… I’ve already caused him enough pain.”

“Dude.” Shorter groans, shakes his head, and runs his hands through his hair. “Dude… you really are clueless, aren’t you? You don’t want to make him feel obligated _—_ Ash, he _already_ loves you.”

Ash’s head snaps up. “What do you mean?”

Shorter laces his fingers behind his head and leans back. “Oh, man. He doesn’t just talk about you, he never shuts up about you, you know that? It’s always like, ‘Yesterday Aslan helped me with this problem on my homework that I wasn’t sure how to do’, or ‘Aslan told me this really good joke earlier today’, or ‘I was feeling a little homesick but listening to Aslan tell me about his day made me a lot happier’, all the time! He _adores_ you, Ash. And…”

He’s forgotten how to breathe. That can be the only explanation for the tightness in his chest. “And?”

Shorter looks directly at him. “He said to me, once, that he knows his soulmate lives somewhere nearby. He said his soulmate isn’t ready to meet him yet. And that he’s okay with that. You wanna know why he’s okay with that?”

Ash has to look away, for once unable to bear Shorter’s eyes on him. “Why?”

“Because he knows he loves you, and he’s willing to wait as long as you need.” Shorter sighs deeply. “He already loves you so fucking much, Ash. So if you’re waiting because you don’t think you deserve his love, too bad. You already have it.”

A kick to the ribs would’ve left him reeling less. Ash takes in a deep, shuddering breath, gasping so that he doesn’t drown now that he’s finally found the oasis, and shakes his head. “That doesn’t make sense. I… I don’t know why he would love me when all I’ve ever done all our lives is hurt him, I don’t—I don’t understand—”

“Ash… you don’t have to understand why he loves you to accept that he does. And he himself would be the first to say you’ve added a lot more to his life than just pain.” Shorter shifts, like he wants to move closer, maybe, or maybe he’s just uncertain. Ash can’t bring himself to look at him to see which, too caught up in the idea that Eiji already loves him, already loves him and is ready to wait for him for as long as he needs—he can’t be committed to someone who brings him fear and pain, can he? Why would he—how could—what is he thinking, why does he love _Ash?_

“It doesn’t make sense,” he finally manages, pathetic and bewildered. “I don’t understand.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense yet.” Shorter hesitates. “Just… think on it, okay? Because if your only reason is you’re afraid of not being… right, or good enough for him, just know he loves you a lot already.”

Ash is silent. It doesn’t make sense. Eiji loves him enough to speak of him with pride? To other people? Not just as—not just as the burdensome soulmate who always needs to be taken care of? Who’s always suffering and dragging him down, too?

“Seems too good to be true.” He laughs, harsh and bitter. “I can’t… I don’t get it.”

Shorter is quiet for a long moment. “It’s true, whether it seems too good or not. It’s true.”

Ash just shakes his head.

After a moment, Shorter shifts again, digging his phone out of his pocket and fiddling with it. “Hey,” he says. “Do you wanna see pictures?”

Ash is so grateful for the change in subject that his breath leaves his chest in a big _whoosh,_ until he slumps back against the cushions and feels the tension drain from his shoulders. “Yeah.”

“Look. This is him.”

Shorter turns the phone to him, and time stops.

Eiji is adorable. He… his hair is fluffier than Ash imagined, but his smile is gorgeous and his cheeks round. He’s holding Sing’s devil cat in this picture, and somehow the little demon has cozied her way into his arms, one paw on his shoulder as she rubs her head against his chin. He’s laughing, eyes closed in delight, as behind him Sing watches in clear awe.

Oh, god, Ash wants to hold him. To hold him and apologize for all the pain and to hear him laugh out loud and to see that smile in person and… and…

“Feels too good to be true ‘cuz I’ve loved him since I was seven.”

The words slip out, so quiet that in their wake Ash isn’t sure he uttered them at all. They’re true, though. Ever since those days when the fucking Bluebeard of Cape Cod took him and raped him over and over again, Eiji has been taking care of him. Eiji held him together, with all his comfort and his love and his light, for years. He’s been desperately, utterly in love with his soulmate since he knew what love was.

And now he’s here, within reach.

Ash is terrified of the day the cruel world tries to snatch him away. It’s taken everything and everyone else he’s allowed himself to love.

“And you don’t want to compare the real him to the idea in your head, in case you find him lacking?” Shorter asks.

“No!” Ash shakes his head vehemently. “I—look, I know I don’t talk about shit from when I was little, but it wasn’t good, okay? It fucking sucked. And he was—he was there for me for all of that, and I just—”

“Ahhh.” Shorter nods, as if he understands this time. Ash stares at him. Does he really get it? “You’re afraid of him rejecting you.”

“What?” Ash scoffs to hide how true the words ring. “Of course I’m not. He wouldn’t—he wouldn’t _reject_ me. He’s too good for that. He’s… he’s got too much love in him. Fuck, that sounds cheesy. I just mean, like, god, he’s just got a really big heart.”

“And he already loves you, confirmed, as a fact.” Shorter nods again. “But you’re still afraid. You know he loves you, and you know he would never reject you, but you’re still afraid. Am I right?”

“Shut up.” Ash turns away. He wants Eiji, he wants to go to him and cover him in all the love he’s been holding in for ten years, wants to hold him for a thousand years and never let go, wants Eiji so much it _hurts,_ but Shorter is right. He’s scared. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

Shorter softens again. “That’s alright,” he says gently. “Do you wanna see some more pictures?”

Ash hesitates, then nods.

“Cool.” Shorter holds out his phone again. “This one’s from when we got sushi to get an authentic Japanese opinion…”

* * *

Several hours after Shorter leaves, Ash is just about ready to explode.

 _Aslan? Are you okay?_ Eiji asks, concerned, as he drums his fingers on the armrest for what must be the thousandth time. _You seem… agitated._

 _You love me,_ Ash nearly replies, reining in his thoughts at the last second. They aren’t happy to be suppressed, clamoring _youloveme youloveme youloveme!!!!_ as he stuffs them down, burying his face in his hands with a groan. Eiji loves him? _Eiji loves him?_

_Aslan?_

_I’m—it’s fine,_ he manages. His mind wants his heart to shut up. His heart wants to sing. _Just, uh. Got a lot to think about._

 _Oh._ Eiji seems a little distracted for a moment before focusing on him again. He feels a little timid, a little uncertain, wherever he is. _Do you want to talk about it?_

Ash freezes.

Eiji loves him Eiji loves him Eiji loves him. And Eiji is a good person with a big heart and he’s full of love and he’s hurting, too, and, and… and—

_I love you._

Eiji’s shock is immediate, as if he just reeled back in surprise. Then comes a flood of bright, gleeful happiness and excitement, and a moment later finally words follow. _I love you, too!_

Eiji loves him. Eiji loves him!

He wants to see him. God, he wants to see him, the desire surging up like a roaring flame—he wants to know what hurt Eiji and he wants to love him just as much as Eiji has loved him for years, wants to take care of him and soothe him when he cries and wants to hold him hold him hold him.

 _I don’t know how to do this,_ he confesses. _I don’t know a lot of things._

(He knows one thing: that he is desperately, utterly, and irrevocably in love with Eiji Okumura, and that in this moment, that’s all that matters.)

 _How to do what?_ Eiji asks. _Loving… me?_

 _Yeah._ Ash groans. Now that he’s voiced it, that sounds so _stupid._ But it’s true. Maybe he’s just stupid. _I don’t know how love like. Works. I don’t know how to be a good soulmate and it scares me because I want you to be happy and you deserve nothing but the best and—_

 _Aslan, Aslan, slow down!_ Eiji cuts in. He feels so bubbly and happy that just knowing that he’s the one who made him so giddy makes Ash’s chest feel lighter than air. _I do not know what I am doing either!_

Ash stops. Blinks.

_You don’t?_

He gets the distinct impression that Eiji is laughing at him. _No! I am just figuring it out as I go along. And doing what feels right. Did you think I have a manual? Let me turn to page twenty-seven, paragraph twelve, oh, okay, this is what to do when he says he loves me?_

 _Eiji!_ Ash whines, burying his face in his hands because he’s giggling and that’s embarrassing. He just feels giddy and gleeful and oh, god he wants to see him. _Don’t make fun of me!_

_You just make it very easy sometimes!_

_You keep laughing at me._ Ash pouts, even though he knows Eiji can’t see him, and runs his hands through his hair to steel himself for what he wants to say next. _I wanna know what your laugh sounds like._

There’s another little burst of surprise that melts into soft delight, and Ash has to grab a cushion to hug it to his chest. Eiji loves him, and he’s the one making Eiji happy right now. And Eiji loves him. He said so himself. He loves him!

_I want to know what yours sounds like, too._

Ash does not consider himself an impulsive person. He doesn’t do things without planning them out carefully, considering every angle, and making his moves with the next five planned in advance. His life is a game of chess, and he plays to win. He’d be dead if he didn’t.

And yet…

_Where are you?_

_At this… party one of the other international students threw,_ Eiji answers. That explains why he’s a little distracted, then. _I kind of want to leave? It is not bad but I accidentally made someone angry and now I am kind of hiding. But I do not want to be hiding because I really want French fries…_

Ash pauses, wary. _Are you in danger?_

_What?! No, no—it is just so awkward!_

Relieved, he grabs his jacket, stuffs his feet into his shoes, and heads for the door. _Nah. If anyone tries to give you shit, just punch ‘em in the nuts. What’d you do to make someone mad, anyway? Doesn’t seem like you._

 _I don’t know!_ Eiji whines. _He wanted to know if I wanted something to drink, but I have apple juice so I said no, but I told him I wanted fries, and he got annoyed and told me to fuck off?_

…Oh, for fuck’s sake.

 _Eiji,_ he starts, hurrying down the stairs and grabbing his motorcycle keys and helmet. Then he breaks off to snort. _So you know what fuck means now?_

 _I looked it up on Google weeks ago,_ Eiji answers primly.

Ash laughs.

_Hey. Where exactly are you? I’ll pick you up. We can get fries._

Eiji’s excitement is palpable—suddenly he’s like an excited puppy, bouncing all over the place in Ash’s mind. (Take that, party asshole.) _Really? You want to?!_

 _Yeah,_ Ash says, turning the key in the ignition. _I do._

Eiji gives him the address, then adorably clams up because he says he doesn’t wanna distract Ash on the road. Which is super cute even if it’s also a little infuriating because Ash wants nothing but to talk to him and talk to him and talk to him forever, but he guesses he just has to be patient.

Luckily, it’s only about a thirty-minute ride, and then he reaches the apartment building Eiji described. The doors open onto outdoor walkways, and Ash can’t help but wonder which one is hiding his soulmate right now.

There’s one way to find out. He gives Eiji a little mental prod and says, _Come outside._

One of the doors on the second floor opens, only a second or two later, and even if he didn’t feel Eiji’s excitement and trepidation he knows he’d be drowning in his own. And the second he sees someone step out, he knows:

That’s his soulmate.

That’s his _soulmate!_

Eiji closes the door with a final wave to whoever’s inside, then turns around, and their eyes meet. Ash can’t breathe, suddenly—this is his Eiji, this is his Eiji, it’s _Eiji,_ his soulmate, who’s loved him since they were young and who was there for him every single day when things were bleak and horrible and he didn’t want to keep existing, and—

“Aslan,” Eiji gasps, and then he’s running, and Ash barely has the time to snap out of his thoughts and hold out his arms before Eiji crashes into him with a fierce hug. “Aslan, it’s you, it’s you—you’re here!”

And he’s laughing, bright and breathless and beautiful, and Ash buries his face in his hair and holds him desperately tight and tries to catch his breath. He smells faintly of floral shampoo. “Hey. Hey, Eiji. Hi.”

Eiji pulls back just enough to look at him, still standing in his arms and smiling brighter than the moon and all of the stars above them combined. Even brighter than all the lights in New York City. “Hi. Hi.”

Ash studies him for a moment, drinking in his mussed, fluffy hair and big brown eyes. They’re even more enticing than in Shorter’s pictures. And his laughter is already better than anything he could ever have imagined.

“Sorry if I’m not quite what you had in mind,” he says, and Eiji makes a face. It’s clearly meant as a reprimand but it’s _adorable,_ and Ash has to try not to melt on the spot. This is the boy who’s loved him all his life, and here he is, standing in his arms in a dim parking lot, scrunching up his nose and pouting at him.

“You are not,” Eiji admits, after a moment.

Ash hopes his mental flinch goes unnoticed. He… he figured Eiji wanted someone else, but he didn’t think he’d _say_ so—

“I thought I would be taller than you,” Eiji adds, and Ash stares at him.

“You,” he says slowly, “thought you would be taller than me.”

Eiji nods and pouts. “I am older than you! I thought I would be taller, too…”

Ash claps a hand to his forehead and laughs. “Hey, fuck you, you had me actually scared for a second there!”

Eiji softens immediately and hugs him tight again, cheek squished against his shoulder. He’s full of love and happiness and warmth. “Oh no! You know I am joking, yes? You are perfect just as you are.”

Ash can’t stop smiling. God, if his gang could see him now they wouldn’t even fucking recognize him—he can practically hear Bones asking, _who’s this dopey idiot and what’s he done with Boss?_ —but… he doesn’t actually know if that’s a bad thing.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he says, and finally lets go, stepping back to grab the spare helmet and pass it over. He’s never thought of himself as a touchy-feely person before, but his arms still feel empty almost instantly. “You still want fries?”

Eiji’s face lights up again. “Yes!”

“Good. Get on.” Ash hands over his spare helmet, climbs onto his bike again, and waits for Eiji to settle behind him, holding tentatively to the back of his jacket. “You sure you’re secure?”

“I have never been on a motorcycle before,” Eiji admits, voice full of wonder. Ash’s heart is full fit to burst.

“Well, that won’t do. I don’t want you to fall off,” he says, only half-teasing. “You can put your arms around me. I don’t mind.”

Eiji carefully complies, arms slipping about his waist, and then he’s leaning against Ash’s back, cheek against the back of his shoulder. “Is this okay?”

“Yup. Should be good.” Ash swallows hard—Eiji is here, holding onto him, and he can feel nothing but love from their bond, and it’s so familiar and yet so _different_ because Eiji is here with him now, not half a world away—and revs the engine. “Time to treat you to some good ol’ American cuisine. I hope you haven’t been to a New York City McDonald’s yet.”

“I have not,” Eiji confirms, and his laughter echoes down the street as they zoom off into the night.

When he pulls into a spot and turns off the engine, Eiji takes a moment to let go of him, slowly retreating and pulling off his helmet. His hair is adorably mussed and his eyes shine with delight as he passes it back over. Ash finds himself once again missing his touch immediately.

“You good?” Ash asks, setting the helmet with his own and locking them both to the bike.

“Yes!” Eiji glances at him, smiling brightly. Ash wants to—to put an arm around him, or to reach over and hold his hand, or _something,_ but he hangs back, unsure, because yeah they hugged and Eiji was clinging to him all the way here, but that was because he had to in order not to fall off the bike, and he doesn’t know if that’s… allowed?

So he doesn’t, just nodding and walking towards the McDonalds. “Good. C’mon, let’s get you some fries.”

Eiji is clearly over the moon as they walk in, far happier than anyone ought to be while just getting Mickey D’s when it’s not even one in the morning yet. But Ash knows, deep down, it’s not the McDonald’s that’s making him so happy, and that makes his cheeks flush—at least he can blame it on the wind.

The line is short; it’s probably dead hours, between dinner rush and the flood of drunken idiots leaving the bars later, so Ash ushers Eiji in front of him and stands, hands in his pockets, to consider the menu. Does he want anything really? Nah, not hungry. Maybe just a milkshake.

Oh? Eiji’s getting his wallet out. That won’t do.

“I’ll pay,” Ash tells him, shaking his head at the wallet. “Put that away.”

“What? No, it is for my fries, and you already brought me here. I will buy them!” Eiji does not put the wallet away.

Ash narrows his eyes. “Yeah, I brought you out here because it’s my treat. I’ll buy ‘em.”

“But—”

“You can pay me back by letting me steal some.” Ash steps around him so that he’ll get to the counter first. “Sound good?”

When he glances over his shoulder, Eiji is giving him a dirty look, cheeks puffed out in a pout, and he can’t help but smirk. He wins this time. “Fine. But I will buy next time.”

Next time, huh.

“Fine by me.”

They order—a large box of fries for Eiji and a chocolate milkshake for Ash—and settle down at one of the mildly greasy tables near the back. There’s a few other people seated, but not many, and most of the tables are empty, so it’s isolated enough to feel a little like they have privacy, sitting in their own corner of a tiny McDonald’s and waiting for their order to be called.

“So.” Ash looks over at him and promptly forgets every sentence he’s ever known. How does one start a conversation? How does one talk to his soulmate? “Um.”

Eiji grins. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He’s a little breathless again, from excitement or trepidation he’s not sure. Maybe both. “Eiji.”

“Aslan.” Eiji’s smile softens into something sweet and lovely. “It really is you.”

 _It’s me,_ Ash confirms, over the soulbond, and Eiji beams at him. “Yeah. It’s me.”

His fingers itch to reach out and take Eiji’s hand, to memorize the lines in his palm and the shape of his fingers and every last ridge and bump in his skin. He stops himself because he doesn’t dare risk being too much for Eiji, but oh, the desire aches in his chest. He’s bursting with questions—what happened a year ago? Why has Eiji been so sad lately? Does he know how much he means to Ash? Is he happy now?—but none of them seem right for a McDonald’s conversation when they’ve only just met, and he’s tongue-tied.

“I did not know you and Shorter were friends this whole time,” Eiji finally says, breaking the silence. Ash suddenly has a bad feeling about where this is going. And yeah, sure enough— “I cannot believe you had gummy worms for breakfast.”

“Wha—that was _one time,_ and even I admit that was a low point!” Ash groans. Fucking Shorter. “I can’t believe he spent all this time talking shit about me. That dick. He owes me food for this.”

“At Chang Dai?” Eiji perks up. “He took me there with Sing one time, to meet his sister! It was very nice. I like her very much!”

“She likes you, too.” That reminds him, actually. “I hear Shorter threw you into a bush, by the way. Did he ever fix your sweater? He never told me about that.”

Eiji wrinkles his nose. “No. I am thinking about just sewing it back, but it will probably look ugly. I might just throw it away.”

“Make him buy you a new one. I’ll make him buy you a new one if he doesn’t listen.”

Eiji laughs. “Okay. Maybe we can all go shopping together.”

That… actually doesn’t sound that bad. Ash considers it, then shrugs. “Maybe so.”

Their order gets called—“Milkshake and a large fry for Ash?”—and Eiji hops up to go get it, flapping a hand at Ash when he starts getting up too. He hurries back with the tray and sets it down on the table, plops back down, and grabs a fry, wiggling in place with excitement.

“There you go.” Ash grins, stupidly charmed by how happy Eiji is just to have some shitty fast food French fries. “Finally got you your fries.”

“Yes!” Eiji cheers, dunking one in ketchup and popping it into his mouth. Apparently it’s a bit hot, because he immediately blows out his breath and fans himself, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing the next one. “You know, I do not understand why that guy was so annoyed when I said I wanted a snack instead of a drink. I already _had_ a drink? I was very obviously drinking apple juice.”

Ash catches himself staring at the furrow in his brow as he talks, clearly bewildered by whatever social cue he missed, and oh, god, he’s _adorable._ Fuck.

Unable to resist any longer, he reaches over and lays his hand over Eiji’s. It’s a little cooler than his, but his skin is soft. “Eiji, he was trying to hit on you.”

Eiji wrinkles his nose, twining their fingers together, and Ash’s heart squeezes. “What?”

“He wanted to get you a drink as in _alcohol,”_ Ash explains, trying not to laugh. He looks like a confused little hamster or bunny or something, mouth squished into a tiny, round _o_. “He was trying to flirt with you.”

Eiji scrunches up his nose and shakes his head. “Oh. I will have to tell him I am not interested if I see him again.”

“I think he got that memo, don’t worry.” Ash sips his milkshake, then takes off the lid and snags one of Eiji’s fries to dip it in. It’s hot and crispy and the salt goes well with the cold and sweet of the milkshake, as always, and he swipes another before he notices the look of utter horror on Eiji’s face. “What?”

Eiji is very expressive, huh. “What… what are you _doing?”_

Ash has to try not to laugh again. “It’s good!” he defends, squeezing Eiji’s hand. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it. Here,” and he dips another fry in and holds it out.

Eiji looks at it very dubiously.

“It’ll drip,” Ash cautions. “If you’re not gonna eat it, I will.”

“I am beginning to think you do not have any standards for what goes in your mouth,” Eiji mutters, but he leans forward and—to Ash’s surprise—lets him feed him the fry, still looking suspicious.

“Well?”

Eiji chews, swallows, and considers. Reluctantly, he nods. “Not bad.”

“Told you.” Ash grins, steals another couple of fries, and dunks them. “Want another?”

Eiji eyes them with suspicion again, but after a moment he takes one from Ash and eats it. Ash squeezes his hand, pleased, and decides this counts as another small victory.

“You have warm hands,” Eiji remarks, rubbing his thumb over Ash’s knuckles. Something that small really shouldn’t give him heart palpitations. Maybe that’s something everyone forgets to mention about soulmates. After all, plenty of people have touched him before, and not a single one made him feel anything but revulsion. But Eiji?

Eiji makes him feel _purified_.

“Yeah, well, better to hold your cold ones. Jesus, I bet in winter you’re just a walking ice cube.” He tentatively rubs the base of Eiji’s thumb, eyes flicking to his face to judge whether that was okay. Eiji smiles, and he doesn’t seem displeased through their bond, so it must be; Ash wants to hold him again, suddenly, wants to hold him close to his heart and guard him from the cruelties of the world now and forevermore. The world doesn’t deserve to lay a finger on Eiji.

“Yes,” Eiji says. “I think you are right. You have the perfect hands to hold mine. In winter you will be my portable hand-warmer, yes?”

“Oh, fuck off.” Ash snorts, and Eiji taps a finger on the back of his hand, eyes crinkling as he laughs. “If you really need me to, I _guess._ But I’ll buy you mittens first.”

“I will hold you to that,” Eiji teases, and goes back to his fries.

Long after the fries and shake are both gone they sit there and talk and laugh, not wanting this spell to end. Time stops—the stars cease to roll by overhead, the cars racing by on the roads outside mean nothing, and the sun stays far away—as Ash drowns in the company of his soulmate, in the warmth of his voice and the brilliance of his smile and the love in his eyes. There’s never been a happier drowning man.

Until Eiji yawns, takes his hand away to check his phone, and exclaims, “Oh!”, and time begins to flow again. Ash’s heart sinks.

“It’s getting late, huh?” He sighs, trying to quash his disappointment so that Eiji can’t feel it. “I shouldn’t keep you too long.”

“I do need to meet Ibe-san and his soulmate for lunch tomorrow,” Eiji says, putting his phone away. He reaches for Ash’s hand again, and Ash desperately intertwines their fingers. “But it is so late… how far away do you live?”

Ash looks outside dubiously. “Takes maybe thirty minutes to get back on the bike. How late is it?”

“Midnight.” Eiji frowns. “That is far. I live near here. You can park in the apartment lot tonight and stay with me. If—that is, if you want, I mean—I just do not want you driving so far alone when it is late and you must be tired, and…”

Ash stares at him for a second. Midnight isn’t that late and he’s not too tired to drive, but—but Eiji wants to let him _stay?_ “I—uh—yeah, okay, sure, if you’re sure that’s no trouble?”

Eiji gets up and comes around the table to hug him, at that, free arm wrapping around his shoulders as his cheek rests against his hair. He’s soft and his sweater still smells faintly of jasmine. “Even if it was trouble, I would happily do it to spend time with you.”

Ash’s cheeks heat, and he does his best to hide in Eiji’s chest, leaning into him. “Oh. Okay.”

Eiji pulls back after a moment, taking their tray and throwing away their trash before he comes back and leads him by the hand back out to the parking lot. “Although… well, I can take the floor, never mind.”

“You’re not giving up your bed for me,” Ash warns, passing him his helmet. “Don’t you dare.”

“I will not make you take the floor!” Eiji protests, even as he puts it on.

“Well, I won’t make you take it either, in your own apartment!” Ash mounts the bike, waiting for Eiji to fasten his helmet and clamber on behind him. Just like before, he can tell Eiji feels safe and full of affection, holding onto him, though this time his arms settle about his waist easily, and it makes something in him feel warmer. “So… if you don’t mind sharing…”

“Oh,” Eiji says softly, and then a little louder, “Oh. Yes. That is fine.”

“You still gotta give me directions to get there, though,” Ash adds, kicking up the stand and turning the key. Eiji laughs and nods as they zoom off, and overhead, the stars keep wheeling through the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P L E A S E appreciate the [jo art](https://twitter.com/jumpforjo/status/1094781839842136065) again (tumblr link [here](http://jumpforjo.tumblr.com/post/182723582119/hey-team-get-ready-for-chapter-3-of-eijispumpkin) owo)!!!!!!!!!!! it's the motorcycle scene im SO IN LOVE
> 
> next chapter will be out in two weeks!!! thank you all for reading!!
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://eijispumpkin.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/songbirdrimi), or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/SongbirdRimi) !!!


	4. laugh like you've never been lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiji gets to hold his soulmate, like he's always wanted. Some new truths come to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello thank you so much for reading!!! excitingly i've finally gotten around to putting the skin on this fic that allows me to more neatly embed art, so if you wanna go back and check out jo's art now IN LINE with the TEXT in chapters 2 and 3, it's there!!
> 
> warnings this chapter: More Discussion of ash's fucked up past (mentions of underage rape)...

The sun creeps over the horizon, outlining the curtains in dawning grey, as Eiji opens his eyes and sighs. He feels heavy and boneless and content, groggy in the way he’s come to associate with being awake while Aslan is still sleeping, and he doesn’t want to move quite yet. Last night he had such a nice dream…

…and then he realizes part of why he feels so heavy is that Aslan is draped over him like a puppet with cut strings, head tucked into his neck and legs tangled up with his, and it hits him with the weight of a brick that last night _wasn’t_ a dream. It was real, and his soulmate is here with him, cozy and warm.

He can’t help but smile as he closes his eyes again. Maybe sleeping a little longer won’t hurt, just for today.

The next time he wakes up, the sunlight peeking through the window is golden, not silvery-grey—oh, no, hopefully he hasn’t slept through lunch with Ibe-san and Max—what time is it? He should call them if he will be late!

Reaching for his phone dislodges Aslan, who makes a soft, sleepy noise of complaint.

“Sorry, sorry!” Eiji tentatively pets his hair, grabbing his phone and sighing with relief when he sees it’s half past eight, not noon yet. Still, he ought to get up and make breakfast now, rather than staying in bed and rushing when it’s finally time to leave. “Aslan? Aslan, it’s morning. We should get up.”

“Mmngh.” Aslan tucks his face into Eiji’s neck again, and the touch of his nose against his skin sends a little jolt of electricity through Eiji’s entire body. “Mm-mm.”

“I cannot make breakfast if you do not get off me,” Eiji wheedles, resting a hand on his back. He has such broad shoulders… “Don’t you want something to eat that is better than gummy worms?”

“Shu’ _up_ ‘bout the worms,” Aslan groans. “Too early.”

Oh—Eiji’s heart squeezes, and he suddenly finds himself sporting a big, dopey grin. Hearing his soulmate’s voice all rough from sleeping in his arms is more endearing than he thought anything in the world could be, and he can’t keep himself from laughing as he ruffles Aslan’s hair. “It is half past eight! It is a good time to get up.”

“That’s so fucking early, Eiji…” Aslan sighs, but he lifts his head and looks at him with sleepy green eyes. He really is beautiful, painted in soft colors by the morning glow. “It’s a Saturday. There’s no need to be awake yet.”

“The early bird gets the worm,” Eiji quotes. “But not the gummy one.”

“Yeah, well, I said shut up.” Aslan blows at a lock of hair falling across his eyes, and it falls right back down. Eiji takes pity on him and tucks it behind his ear. “That’s a dumb saying. Second mouse gets the cheese. Now what.”

“You are not a mouse.”

“But you’re a bird?” Ash snorts. “Go back to sleep, birdie. I’m gonna.”

“I am getting lunch with Ibe-san and his soulmate,” Eiji reminds him, smoothing down the worst of his bedhead and trying not to giggle at how messy it is. Aslan leans into his touch like a cat, closing his eyes for a few seconds before he lays his head back down on his chest. “Hey! No, we are getting up!”

“No need.” Aslan’s hand slips onto his shoulder, resting there tentatively as if he’s not quite sure what to do with it, before sliding up a bit to flick his ear. “If you gotta go out for lunch then get up at like… I dunno… eleven.”

“That means sleeping through breakfast,” Eiji reproaches. “Get up. You can have your mid-afternoon gummy worms when I am not around, but when you are with me, we will have real food. Okay?”

“Uuggghhhhhhhhh.” Aslan pulls the blanket up over his head, and Eiji squawks in protest. “Don’t wanna.”

“Well, I am getting up! You can join me if you want!” Eiji huffs, pushing at him and wriggling out from under him. It doesn’t help that his left arm is mostly numb from Aslan’s head lying on it all night, but he is—he was—an _athlete._ He can get out from under his soulmate, even if he _is_ dead weight!

“Birdiiie,” Aslan whines, catching his hand just as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. “Nooo.”

Eiji softens, taking Aslan’s hand in both of his and giving it a squeeze. Aslan is still radiating _sleepy sleepy sleepy_ through their bond, and the way he wants to curl up and cuddle makes Eiji think of a big, adorable teddy bear. His soulmate is very cute. “Complain all you want, but I am making breakfast. What do you want to eat?”

Aslan shrugs one shoulder, his thin T-shirt tugged taut by the motion. Eiji automatically reaches over to pull it back down from where it rode up as they slept, unthinking, and then shies back immediately—was that too intimate? They’ve only just met really, even if they’ve technically known each other their whole lives, and—

Aslan flops over and hugs his arm to his chest. “Whatever’s fine.”

“I can try to make something American,” Eiji supposes, thinking. Hmmm. What does he know how to make?

Max made pancakes at Ibe-san’s place a while ago. Those were pretty good, and from what he remembers, not that time-consuming—he can look up a recipe and make the batter in a few minutes, probably! And they can use them to eat the last of the blueberries he bought on Tuesday.

“You don’t have to change your routine up just for my tastes,” Aslan starts to say, but Eiji cuts in.

“Do you want pancakes?”

Aslan blinks. “Uh, sure?”

“Good.” Eiji squeezes his hand again, twining their fingers together and finding the pads of Aslan’s fingers to squish them playfully. His skin is a little dry, and his fingers have slight calluses. There’s lotion in the bathroom; Eiji will have to remember to remind him to use it later. “I need to finish the berries I bought earlier, and I think they will go well with pancakes.”

“Oh. Okay.” Aslan sighs and runs a hand through his hair, undoing what meager progress Eiji made towards smoothing it down earlier. “You’re seriously gonna make me get up this early on a Saturday, huh.”

Eiji grins. “Yes. You can have five minutes because I only have one bathroom, but after that, you are getting up.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Aslan lets go of his hand to swat him, lying back on the pillow and pulling the blanket up over his chest again. “You’re the worst.”

Eiji _kind of_ maybe a little bit wants to lean down and kiss his forehead before going to the bathroom, but he manages to stop himself and just goes instead. “Remember, five minutes!”

He doesn’t bother going to drag Aslan out of bed after he’s done in the bathroom; if he _really_ wants to go back to sleep, he can. He’ll just miss out on fresh pancakes, but that’s his problem. Instead he pulls up a recipe on his phone, then sets about mixing ingredients together, humming as he works.

Once the batter is ready, he fills up his kettle and sets it to boil, because no breakfast is complete without tea, and turns to pull a pan out of its cabinet so he can fry the pancakes. Aslan seems to have gotten out of bed—the water is running, at least—but Eiji frowns, glancing back toward the bedroom with concern. Something doesn’t feel quite right over the bond.

Just before he turns the stove on, Aslan shows up, but instead of complaining about it being too early again or making some wisecrack about Eiji’s set of pretty green matching bowls and pans, he looks a little nervous. He _feels_ nervous, too.

Eiji pauses. _Are you okay?_

There’s a burst of surprise, then flashes of nerves and self-annoyance, and finally Aslan sighs. “I, uh… wanted to talk to you about something last night, but I chickened out ‘cuz we were having fun last night and I didn’t wanna like, be a downer, but I also… I dunno, feel like I should say it before too much longer?”

Eiji puts the pan down, making sure the stove is off, and slowly walks toward him. This is it—this is where Aslan tells him about not being sure if he wants someone like him, someone who’s been so mopey lately and can’t get over himself. “Okay?”

Aslan takes a deep breath, lets it out, and meets his eyes. There’s stormy green intensity there, like the ocean before the onset of a tempest, and Eiji nearly takes a step back. “I’m… sorry. For everything.”

What.

_“What?”_

Aslan laughs humorlessly, shoulders slumping. “You know. I… I didn’t have the greatest childhood—it fucking sucked—and I made you feel all of that. Made you suffer right along with me. You… you didn’t deserve all that shit, and I made you go through it anyway. Without even knowing why. I—I really am sorry, Eiji, you never should’ve had to feel like that, and—”

Eiji flings his arms around him.

“You—you never should have had to suffer, either!” he cries, chest tightening. This— _this_ is the guilt he’s felt when they talked about meeting each other, earlier? This? “Aslan, no, no no no, you never deserved any of it either, do not say things like that!”

“You don’t even know what I’ve _done!”_ Aslan’s hands come up to rest against his back so tentatively that Eiji’s heart breaks all over again. Aslan’s entire body is braced for rejection, and it only makes him hold on tighter. “I’ve done some fucked up things, Eiji, I don’t deserve you!”

“I do not care,” Eiji promises, shaking his head. “You are my soulmate. You are my soulmate and you were a child and you are a _good person,_ and no matter what you have been put through you still deserve to be happy.”

“I’m not a good person.” Aslan bows his head. The guilt is threatening to consume him, Eiji can feel it, and he tries his best to beat it back with his love, like he always has; Aslan takes a shuddering breath in his arms. “Eiji, no, I—I’m not—I don’t—”

“Only a good person would blame himself for hurting me to begin with.” Eiji holds him tighter, wanting him to understand, _needing_ him to understand. “But you never hurt me. Not once.”

Aslan snorts humorlessly. “Yeah, except for every single time I made you feel all the shit I was feeling—”

Eiji pulls back and pins him with what he hopes is a fierce look. “And you think someone else hurting you and making you feel horrible is your fault? If I was hurt, it was by the same person who hurt you, not by you.”

“But…”

“No buts!” Eiji shakes his head and grabs his hands. “I mean it. And, Aslan, if you could have blocked me out every time you felt bad, did you never realize I could have blocked _you_ out, if I did not want to be there with you?”

Aslan blinks.

Apparently he never did realize that, because he seems utterly dumbfounded for several seconds, grasping for words. “I—you… but…”

Eiji lets go of one hand, reaches up, touches his cheek. This, at least… this, he knows how to do. Loving Aslan is as natural as breathing. “I wanted to be with you. I wanted you to know you were not alone. Every single time, I wanted you to know.”

“Eiji,” Aslan whispers. He leans his cheek into Eiji’s palm, closing his eyes, and Eiji caresses his thumb over his cheekbone. His skin is soft. “You didn’t even know me. Why did you want—why would you _want_ to hurt for a stranger’s sake?”

“You were never a stranger.” Eiji squeezes his hand. “You were my soulmate. You _are_ my soulmate.”

“I don’t know how to be a good soulmate.” Aslan’s voice is very quiet. He said something like this yesterday, when he was fumbling over himself in his haste to explain things, and Eiji looks at him, pondering. “All I know is I’m fucked up, damaged goods, and I just—I don’t know what to think, Eiji, because you deserve someone better than me, but you also deserve someone who won’t spend all their time thinking about how you deserve better, because no matter what you deserve I’m what you’re stuck with, and…”

“You are not damaged goods.” Eiji brushes certainty across their soulbond. He knows this for sure. “You are perfect for me, just as you are.”

“I’m not, though.” Aslan blows out a breath. “You—you’ve been hurting. You’ve been hurting so bad lately and I haven’t been able to help you at all. You spent all our childhoods taking care of me, and…”

The reminder that Aslan has been able to feel everything, all of it, back from him, makes Eiji’s throat close up alarmingly fast, and he has to swallow a sudden sob as panic swells up and threatens to drag him down. He doesn’t want to think about himself right now. Not his lost chance at making everyone proud and not his stupid grey reality and all his bouts of self-pity, not—

“See! You’re sad now!” Aslan opens his eyes and pins him with a look of helpless worry. Eiji shoves his stupid emotions down and tries to breathe, because they’re not talking about him right now, but Aslan shakes his head. “Fuck, Eiji… please don’t do that. Please let me be here for you. You’ve always taken care of me. Please let me…”

“No, no no no,” Eiji whispers, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “I can’t, I can’t talk about it now or—or I will cry and not make breakfast and—and—”

“And then we can split a bag of gummy worms, Birdie.” Aslan squeezes his hands, fond but so, so concerned. Birdie, Aslan called him. But birds can fly. He’s stuck on the ground, now, wings clipped and broken by his own stupid fucking mistakes, and… and he’s broken. That’s it. “It’s okay. Cry if you gotta.”

Eiji bows his head, unable to meet his gaze, until his forehead bumps Aslan’s collarbone. Aslan doesn’t pull away, lets him stand like that, and rubs his thumbs over his knuckles, and over their soulbond Eiji can feel him thinking as if half to himself, _I’ve got you_.

The shame wells up again, gut-wrenching and horrible, and Eiji has to squeeze his eyes shut again. It was all his fault. If he’d just been better, had realized something was wrong faster, had stopped before taking off wrong… it was all his own fault. Everyone keeps pitying him, now, looking at him with such sympathy he can’t _stand_ it—it’s a shame, that he’s let them all down, and he knows it, but he wishes, selfishly, that they wouldn’t look at him like that.

“Eiji…” Aslan lets out a soft sigh. Eiji suddenly realizes that they’re right next to each other and that means Aslan can _absolutely_ feel what he’s feeling, and now the panic returns; every ounce of his shame and disgust with himself must have just been projected, and here he was trying to be a good soulmate to help Aslan fend off his own insecurities, and…

“Sorry,” he rasps, voice suspiciously hoarse. “I… sorry, sorry—”

“You don’t ever need to apologize to me for this,” Aslan says very quietly. He lets go of one of Eiji’s hands to rest his palm against Eiji’s hair, petting it slowly as if soothing a frightened puppy. “Never. And you don’t need to be ashamed for what happened to you. If someone hurt you—”

“It was _me,_ ” Eiji bursts out, hunching in on himself in shame. “I was stupid and I ruined everything and now everyone looks at me and thinks of what I could have been and how disappointed they are now because I am not that and I cannot ever be that because I ruined my one chance by being stupid and—and I d-do not think I will ever—I cannot ever make that up to them and—and my family supported me but, but I messed it all up, Aslan, it was my fault!”

“Bull fucking shit!” Aslan cups his cheeks firmly and tips his head up, eyes blazing as Eiji shies away from his gaze and stares at a point somewhere over his left shoulder. “If people are making you feel shitty for not being something you’re not, then fuck them! You’re you, whatever happened, and that’s enough. You don’t need to make it up to _anybody._ ”

Eiji manages a wet laugh, wiping at his eyes. “But you still tried to apologize to me for being you, no matter what happened?”

Aslan gapes for a second, crosses his arms, then holds up an indignant finger. “Well—no, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you. Don’t change the topic! I can see you trying to wiggle out of this. You sure you’re not the worm, birdie?”

“Maybe I am.” Eiji’s shoulders slump. “I cannot fly anymore, so if I am a bird I must be a poor one.”

Aslan softens. His hands twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for Eiji again but won’t let himself; Eiji would reach for him, but he doesn’t know if he really is allowed that comfort. Aslan has said he wants to be there for him, but what if… what if he doesn’t _really?_

“And what does that mean?” he asks, more gently. “Let’s stop being vague for a bit. You can ask me anything you want and I’ll be honest, too. But let’s just—what do you mean, you can’t fly?”

“I used—I used to be a competitive pole vaulter in Japan,” Eiji blurts out. “I was kind of good at it. That is—I—people used to say I would probably have been on the Olympic team, if my career kept going like it was. But—but I cannot. I cannot jump anymore. I, ah, my ankle…” and he trails off, looking down as if his stupid ankle will speak for itself, but of course, it doesn’t, and he’s left fumbling. “I messed up. And the doctors told me—they told me I cannot compete. And so…”

Uncomfortable, he trails off, very slowly looking back up from the floor to Aslan’s hands, his chest, his chin, and finally, his eyes.

Aslan looks awed.

“Eiji,” he says, soft and reverent. “Eiji, you’re _amazing._ You were—you were gonna go to the _Olympics._ That’s—you’re incredible!”

“I messed up!” Eiji cries. “I ruined my chance and I will never go, Aslan, how do you not see? I let everyone at home down. People thought I would be on Japan’s team, but I cannot. I do not even know what else I am in Japan other than a _failure!”_

“Well, you’re not in Japan.” Aslan’s jaw takes on a more resolute set. “And I think you’re absolutely amazing.”

He means it, too. The soulbond radiates with soft reverence and awed affection, and then Aslan reaches out and very tentatively loops his fingers around Eiji’s index finger. Eiji tries to process that he—he _doesn’t_ think he’s a failure and he isn’t disappointed and he’s … he’s even proud of him, despite knowing that Eiji is nothing more than a what-if or a could-have-been, and finds that he can’t quite wrap his mind around it. He wraps his arms around Aslan instead.

“Thank you,” he whispers, face pressed into Aslan’s neck. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. All I said is the truth. But I’m, uh… I’m glad it helped.” Aslan lets out a breath and hugs him back, and Eiji closes his eyes, leaning into him. He radiates warmth through the thin cotton of his T-shirt, and his arms are solid and heavy as they rest against Eiji’s back. He’s just the right height for Eiji to comfortably lay his head on his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt a little rough against his cheek, and his eyelashes brush his neck every time he blinks. It’s peaceful.

“What about you?” Eiji finally asks, still leaning against him. “Did you want to talk about… something?”

Aslan tenses just a little, and uncertainty washes through their bond. “I—I feel like I should tell you, but I’m… I…”

He’s scared.

That’s the word that isn’t coming to him. He doesn’t need to say it out loud; Eiji can feel it, a thread of fear running just below the uncertainty. It worries him.

“Why are you afraid?”

Aslan swallows hard, wavers for several seconds as if warring with himself, and finally says in a very small voice, “It might change how you see me, and you’re the one person I can’t—I can’t lose, and I’m scared you won’t—you won’t love me, if. If you find out. Because it’s, um, it’s kind of disgusting and—and I know it’s selfish that I wanna keep you without—without telling you—but I don’t know what I would do without you and—”

Eiji tightens his arms. Aslan stops.

“Nothing you can possibly tell me would make me stop loving you,” he promises, lifting his head to look him in the eyes, so he knows he’s serious. “I have spent my whole life loving you from afar. The only difference now is that I get to love you up close, too. If—if you want that, I mean.”

“I want that,” Aslan says breathlessly, not quite meeting his gaze. He sounds like a skittish, frightened child, and vaguely reminded of his sister Nahoko after she would have nightmares and come running to him, Eiji reaches up and pets his hair, smoothing it down and stroking it behind his ears. “I’m just—I’m a coward—”

“You are not.” Eiji keeps stroking his hair. “You do not have to talk about it, either, if you do not feel comfortable. Not now, or ever.”

“I told you I’d tell you if you asked.” Aslan bites his lip. Eiji sends _soothe-you-love-you_ over the soulbond like he would from Japan a lifetime ago, and Aslan’s eyes widen in front of him. “I—Eiji?”

“Yes?” Eiji drops his hand, slips his arm back around his waist.

“When I was eight I killed a man.” Aslan’s breath leaves him with a shudder. “He—he was my baseball coach. He spent a year raping me on and off and nobody believed me and—and I couldn’t take it so I eventually stole a gun from my dad’s cabinet and when he took me to his house that day I shot him. Point blank. I didn’t know before then how much blood a person had in them but it’s a lot, Eiji, it’s so much blood, it was all over the floor and his clothes and my hands and everywhere, and—and from then on everything was just _awful.”_

Eiji’s stomach drops out, replaced by a rush of horror and sorrow so deep he’s left reeling for half a second. The fear from their childhoods, the despair and the disgust and the terror and all of it—it makes horrifying sense now, and oh, god, he can’t even imagine how horrible that must have been!

“My sweet Aslan,” he breathes, clutching him tight, and Aslan lets out a soft gasp and buries his face in his hair, trembling. “Oh, my lovely Aslan. You… I could never judge you for this. Of course not. I hate that it happened to you, but it is not your fault.”

“That’s not even the worst of it,” Aslan laughs bitterly. “I ran away when I was eleven and I got picked up off the street by—”

He breaks off and shudders violently. Eiji grabs frantically for his hands, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Aslan? Aslan, if you do not want to go into it you do not have to, please do not force yourself, I am here and I am not going anywhere!”

“No, I know.” Aslan lets out a deep breath, scrubs at his face, and then takes Eiji’s hands and holds them tight. “I just. I wanna get all of this over with.”

“Okay.” Eiji squeezes his hands. “I will listen.”

“When I was eleven, I ran away from my aunt’s house.” Aslan bites his lip. “And there were these—these mafia guys. Based around here. They—uh—they made money off—fuck, I dunno why this is so hard to say—”

_You do not have to say it out loud if that is easier,_ Eiji reminds him, rubbing his knuckles over his thumbs. His knees feel a little weak. Everything about this is _awful._ His poor, sweet Aslan deserved so much more than this.

_Right._ Aslan breathes out, closes his eyes, and leans down a little, until his forehead presses Eiji’s. Eiji draws his hands up between them, holds them close to his heart, and very gently nuzzles his nose. It seems like the right thing to do. _Okay. Um. They made money off child sex trafficking and I was convenient. So. There’s that. And the head of the group took a liking to me because he had a thing for blond kids. And, um. That’s all over and in the past but… yeah. I’m pretty well-used, as far as people go._

Eiji kind of wants to throw up.

He’s sure Aslan can feel his horror through the bond, his horror and his helplessness and his grief, but he needs him to know—it’s not at him. It’s at what was done to him. Not at him, _never_ at him.

“Aslan…” Eiji wraps his arms around his neck again and twines his fingers in his hair, wanting to cry. It’s not fair, what he’s been through. What can he say? No words seem good enough. “I hate that this—all of this happened to you, but I still love you just as much as ever. Maybe even more. Thank you for trusting me.”

Aslan opens his eyes again. They’re a little too-bright, though Eiji knows his own probably are, too. “Of course I trust you. You’re the one person who—you’ve always been there. I… just wish I was better for you.”

“You are very good. You make me happy.” Eiji smiles, as reassuring as he can manage, and pats his head. “You have made moving here worth doing. I was not sure about it until I heard your voice the first time, on the airplane.”

“Even though I’m…” Aslan breaks off into a soft, bitter laugh. “Even now you know I’m—I’m a disaster and I’m fucked up and I’m—”

“Yes.” Eiji cuts him off. “Yes, no matter what you are going to say, the answer is still yes. Yes, you are worth it, yes you make me happy, yes I want to be here with you.”

“I don’t have any family left,” Aslan blurts out. “My father is a piece of shit, and my mom ran out right after I was born, so my brother raised me. But he went overseas and our shitty dad sent me to live with my aunt, and I ran away and after that I lost touch with him. I live on my own with a few boys from the street. We look out for each other and they’re great, but it’s not exactly the lifestyle I’d want for you, it’s dangerous and people can be cruel and I want you to be _safe_ and I don’t think I’m good for you but I don’t _want_ to leave—”

“No!” Eiji jerks back, eyes wide, and then grabs at his hands. “You cannot just _leave_ because you think you are not good for me, please!”

Aslan’s eyes widen too, and then he bows his head and sighs deeply. “I know. I won’t. I just don’t know what to do when I can’t convince myself I’m allowed to stay.”

“You are allowed to stay,” Eiji says softly. “I would be very happy if you would stay.”

Aslan smiles, a tired but genuine smile. “Well, if it makes you happy.”

Eiji wraps his arms around his waist again and leans into him, closes his eyes and just holds on. Aslan hugs him back, soft and tentative, but when Eiji sighs with contentment and curls his fingers just a little into his back, he tightens his arms to be nice and secure. He makes Eiji feel so safe and cozy. Like he’s finally come home.

“Sorry for dumping all of this on you like that,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against his hair. “I thought I’d be able to say it a lot less, uh… like _that._ More like a normal conversation.”

“It is okay.” Eiji rubs his fingers in a little circle along his spine. “You do not have to apologize. Some things are hard to talk about.”

“Yeah.” Aslan’s shoulders relax slowly. “I… and you’re gonna be okay, right? I kinda talked over you. You know you’re wonderful, right?”

“Almost as wonderful as my soulmate,” Eiji smiles.

Predictably, Aslan gets a little flustered through the soulbond as he flounders out loud. “Hey—no, you can’t just do that when I’m trying to compliment _you!”_

But this time, Eiji can lift his head and see the adorable way his cheeks turn pink as he squawks indignantly, and oh, he could drown in heady, soft affection right now. He couldn’t stop smiling even if he wanted to as he looks up at him, arms still around his waist. “I can, and I will.”

Aslan rolls his eyes. “See if I try to compliment you again then.”

Eiji laughs, and feeling a little bold and a little relaxed and very at home, he leans up and presses his lips to Aslan’s cheek, lingering for just a second before pulling down. “Whatever you say.”

The tips of Aslan’s ears are red now, matching the deepening flush across his cheeks—they’re soft, Eiji notes, especially under his lips. “Oh. Um. Okay.” His fingers fidget on Eiji’s back for a second, and then a tentative thought slips through the bond. _Do that again?_

Eiji beams and goes up on his toes again to kiss his other cheek.

Aslan lets out a soft breath that’s almost a sigh. He feels relieved, and soft and tentatively content and _happy._ “Eiji… you’re really good.”

Eiji lays his cheek against his shoulder again. Aslan is smiling again, and he loves it. “You are also good. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being with me.” Eiji gives him a little squeeze, smiling back. “It makes me happy.”

“Oh,” Aslan says, a little breathlessly, and then breaks into a bright smile. “Makes me happy, too.”

Eiji looks up at him, heart tugging with fondness. “You know what else we could make?”

“What?” Aslan raises one eyebrow.

“Pancakes.”

And that has the desired effect—Aslan laughs, a little but bright sound, clear like a bell, and Eiji can’t help but beam.

~

[10:29] shorter long:  
yo eiji you heard from ash lately???  
i tried to go over to his place to bother him but hes not there

[10:34] Eiji:  
[image attached]

[10:35] shorter long:  
?!?!!??!?!  
THAT’S YOUR APARTMENT WHEN DID HE COME OVER????  
is that a hairclip???? you got a hairclip on his head?!?!  
what HAPPENED HERE  
eiji i need answers  
DON’T LEAVE ME ON READ

[10:43] Eiji:  
✔️ Read – 10:42 a.m.

[10:45] shorter long:  
oh my god you really are soulmates  
both of you are assholes you know that

[10:45] Eiji:  
how dare you call my soulmate an asshole  
i took his phone dipshit

[10:45] shorter long:  
HEY FUCK YOU

[10:46] Eiji:  
he has you in his phone as shorter long btw lmaoooo

[10:46] shorter long:  
…………  
…i cant even say anything to that its pretty good  
anyway are u gonna explain urself, a s s h o l e

[10:46] Eiji:  
no

[10:46] shorter long:  
youre the literal worst

~

After a short-lived flour battle, a few minutes of repentant kitchen cleaning, and a delightful breakfast followed by more easy, free conversation, Ash drops Eiji off at Max’s building, and Eiji finally bids him a reluctant farewell.

“Drive safely,” he tells him, loitering by his bike. “Let me know when you get home?”

Aslan laughs. “I will, Mom.”

Eiji smacks his arm, then hugs him one last time. Aslan hugs him back warmly, his teasing grin softening into a genuine smile, and then ruffles his hair.

“Cheer up!” he cajoles. “You’re just going out for lunch, not to your own funeral or something. Unless you just don’t wanna go see them, in which case you can always tell them I kidnapped you.” And he winks.

“I know, I know,” Eiji sighs, lingering by his side. “Ibe-san and Max are both really nice, that’s not the problem. And you should not _kidnap_ me! Ibe-san would worry so much! I really should go. I just do not want you to leave…”

Aslan softens again, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I know. But there’s some stuff I gotta take care of with—with the boys, you know, and you have to finish your homework, so I can’t stay forever. Might as well get going now so I can see you again sooner, yeah?”

Eiji wrinkles his nose. “Is that how that works?”

“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” Aslan replies, letting go of his hand to pull on his helmet. His eyes sparkle behind the plastic, and Eiji raps him smartly on the head and steps back. “You can chat with me if lunch is boring, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” Eiji says, unable to stop his heart from sinking as Aslan turns the engine on. “See you later.”

“Bye, Birdie.” Aslan waves once before stepping on the gas, and Eiji watches him go until he disappears around the corner and vanishes. He stands there for another several seconds, keenly feeling the emptiness where just a minute before his soulmate stood, but sighs and shakes his head and starts walking up the stairs. Ibe-san will worry if he’s late, after all.

He rings the doorbell to Max Glenreed’s apartment precisely at 12:01, hoping that Ibe-san won’t mind that he isn’t quite on time, and immediately hears a muffled “Coming!” from inside. After a moment the door swings open and Max greets him with a broad grin.

“Eiji!” he exclaims. “Hey! Great to see you. Even if you _are_ late—it’s a minute past noon, for shame!”

“Oh, um,” Eiji stammers, ducking his head. “I am sorry—”

“No, no, I’m just pulling your leg.” Max laughs, claps a hand on his shoulder, and ushers him inside. “Come on in, Shunichi’s in the kitchen already. He always complains I don’t make tea right, so if you want some of his ‘proper’ tea, I’m sure he’ll be willing to give you a cup. Lunch is ready too, if you’re hungry!”

Eiji toes out of his shoes and considers him. Max is always cheerful and quick-witted, fast to act and fast to laugh. He’s a good counter to Ibe-san, from what Eiji has seen of them together. Maybe that’s something all soulmates have in common—complementing each other’s best points, smoothing along the rough edges.

Though he’s met Max a few times before, this is the first time he’s been to his apartment, and as Max leads him to the kitchen he can’t help but look around at the walls. There are photos framed everywhere, some hanging up and some sitting on tables, and a few letters and articles hung alongside them. Eiji recognizes Ibe-san in a couple of the pictures he sees, and many people he doesn’t know.

There’s one picture that catches his eye—there’s a young man next to Max in it, and _something_ about him seems familiar, but he can’t put his finger on it. His bright eyes stare out of the frame, directly at Eiji’s soul. He swears he’s seen him before…

Shaking himself out of it, Eiji blinks a few times and hurriedly trots after Max to the kitchen. There’s a bowl of mashed potatoes, a salad, and sandwiches on the countertop, and a pot of steaming broccoli and cheese soup that smells delicious. Eiji takes it in with growing delight—he didn’t realize quite how hungry he was until he smelled the food—and smiles.

“Ah, Ei-chan!” Ibe-san turns from the stove and raises a hand in greeting. “Right on time. Do you want some tea? It’s jasmine; Max had some leftover that I sent him in summer.”

“Oh! Yes, please, Ibe-san.” Eiji pulls out one of the barstools and plops down. “Everything looks very good! I did not realize, but I am hungry…”

“Hi, hungry,” Max says, leaning against the counter near Ibe-san. “I’m Max.”

Eiji stares at him for a moment in disbelief. Max looks very pleased with himself.

Ibe-san smacks his arm.

“Hey!”

“You told such a bad joke and you’re this smug?” Ibe-san shakes his head. “Ei-chan is too sweet to tell you that, so I have to say it myself. Right, Ei-chan?”

“Um, yes,” Eiji agrees. It _was_ a very bad joke. That’s the kind Sing complains about Shorter making, too.

“You come into my house,” Max says, affecting offense, “my very own home, where I have invited you to eat my food, and you tell me my jokes are bad?”

“Yes,” Ibe-san says. “Move over, I need the mugs.”

Lunch itself is a pleasant affair; as they eat, Max asks him about school and about his friends and talks about work and his wife, Jessica, who’s on a business trip. Eiji has met her only once, but she’s very nice. His son Michael is at one of his friend’s places, gone for a sleepover, and Max complains that leaves the place too empty for just him, which is why he declares he “made Shunichi get you to come over, too, Eiji!”

Eventually, they move to the living room to sit and talk, and Ibe-san, in true Ibe-san fashion, decides to make a second pot of tea. Max sprawls out across one side of the couch, and Eiji curls up in an armchair. He still misses Aslan; this morning, they sat together, squished into the little loveseat in Eiji’s tiny apartment, and this armchair is almost too big for him alone.

Oh, god, he’s met his soulmate _once_ and he’s turning into a clingy mess. He’s a bit of a disaster.

Still, the way Aslan looked at him this morning, with love and admiration and respect… he can’t help but feel warm every time he remembers. _Eiji, you’re amazing…_ Somehow, Aslan really thinks that’s true, even after knowing the truth. That’s the really amazing part.

He brushes fondness over their bond, wanting Aslan to know he’s thinking of him; Aslan is distracted, busy with something or other, but immediately returns it with a touch of warmth.

The picture from before catches his eye again, and he shifts in the chair to lean over and look at the side table where it sits. The man on the right is Max, laughing, with his arm slung around the other man’s shoulders. The other man is a little more slender, with sandy-brown hair and a kind smile, but there’s something about him that Eiji can’t place.

“Max?” he asks. “Who is this, in this picture? He seems familiar…”

“Huh?” Max glances over, surprised. “That’s my other best friend Griffin! We served overseas together, and we keep in touch now, too. But he lives in Cape Cod, I dunno how you would’ve met him. Maybe he just looks like someone else?”

“Maybe,” Eiji murmurs, frowning. Griffin… Who is he? Why does he look familiar when Eiji can’t place his face? Griffin, Griffin…

It clicks a moment later.

Griffin looks like _Aslan._

Without thinking, Eiji tilts his head to the side and adds, “He looks like my soulmate.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Your soulmate?”

Eiji nods, always eager to talk about him. “His name is Aslan and—”

“Wait! Aslan?!” Max is suddenly on his feet, eyes wide. “Aslan what? Is it—is it _Callenreese?”_

Eiji gapes for a second, startled, and makes himself relax again. “Y-yes, how did you know…?”

“Hoooo!” Max runs both of his hands through his hair and shakes his head, walking a few paces back and forth. “Aslan Callenreese? And he looks like Griff?”

Eiji nods slowly. Where is this going?

Max pins him with a sharp look. “Eiji. Griff had a little brother who went missing while we were overseas. His name was Aslan Jade Callenreese. He got sent to stay with his aunt, but he ran away, and nobody knows what happened to him after that. It’s been left as a cold case, but… your soulmate… does this sound familiar?”

Eiji’s world rocks.

Just this morning, Aslan told him—just this morning Aslan was trembling in his arms and telling him _my brother basically raised me but we lost touch—_ this has to be too good to be true, doesn’t it? It has to be, it has to…

“Very familiar,” he breathes, and then pokes at Aslan. _Aslan? Aslan, do you have a moment?_

_For you? Always._ There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, and if he was any less shaken Eiji would laugh. As it is, he just takes the beaded cushion from behind himself and hugs it to his chest. Aslan grows concerned. _Hey, you okay?_

_You told me about your brother this morning,_ Eiji blurts. _Was—is his name Griffin?_

Aslan goes dead silent.

_Aslan?_

_…Who told you that?_

 “Hey, Eiji?” Max interrupts, waving a hand in front of his face. “You good? Need some water? Yo, Shunichi! Can you get a glass of water for Eiji?”

“I’m—I’m fine,” Eiji manages. The shock rolling through him is mostly Aslan’s, not his own; he’s surprised, yes, and in disbelief, but the deep, sudden shock and trepidation are all Aslan. “I asked my soulmate his brother’s name. He is just… he is very surprised.”

“Shit, yeah, I can imagine.” Max rubs the back of his neck, pats Eiji’s head, and sits back down on the edge of the couch. “Take your time if you need. But… is it? Is it him? Aslan Jade Callenreese, from Cape Cod? Because if it’s—if it’s him, tell him Griff has never stopped looking for him, not once since we got back. Griff never accepted that he was probably dead, like the police said, and… and Griff loves him, okay?”

Eiji nods, wide-eyed.

_Eiji? Who told you that? Please._

_I—I am at Ibe-san’s soulmate’s apartment, and there was a photo on the wall and I thought the person in it looked kind of like you, and I asked who it is, and Max said it was his friend Griffin Callenreese, and I said he looks like my soulmate, and I called you Aslan and Max said Griffin has a little brother named Aslan who went missing after leaving Cape Cod for his aunt’s house where he ran away, and—_

There’s a drowning wave of shock-fear-trepidation-hope-panic that crashes over him, and he’s barely aware of Ibe-san pressing a glass of water into his weak hands. “Ei-chan? Drink. Max! What did you do to him!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Max protests, barely audible over the white roaring in Eiji’s ears. “We were talking and his soulmate flipped out because…”

They talk, but Eiji tunes them out, squeezing his eyes shut and concentrating on breathing. _Aslan?_

_…Eiji?_ Aslan sounds… terrified. _Eiji, that’s—your—your boss’s soulmate is friends with my brother?_

_I think so,_ Eiji confirms, a little guiltily. _Do you want me to send you a picture of this photo to confirm?_

_No,_ Aslan says immediately, then hesitates. _…Yes._

_Okay._ Eiji opens his eyes, takes another deep breath, and drinks several sips of water. It helps him ground himself, clearing away the fog of Aslan’s panic, and he calmly takes his phone out to take the photo. Once he texts it, he waits. _Is that him?_

_It’s him,_ Aslan confirms, voice shaky. _It’s him._

“It’s him,” Eiji confirms, and both Ibe-san and Max look over immediately. “Griffin is my Aslan’s older brother.”

A loud silence falls for several seconds.

Max is the one who finally breaks it. “Well,” he says, and pauses. “Holy mother of fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the links to jo's art on [tumblr](http://jumpforjo.tumblr.com/post/183036677679/check-out-some-sweet-sweet-max-content-in) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/jumpforjo/status/1099837254778974209?s=21) !!!! show them some love im still losing my SHIT over max's expression it's so perfect.
> 
> find me on [tumblr,](https://eijispumpkin.tumblr.com/) [twitter,](https://twitter.com/SongbirdRimi) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/SongbirdRimi) !!! thank you for reading!!!


	5. hold me fast til the storms are over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash reunites with his brother. It's all downhill from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: more discussion of ash's past, including mentions of rape and csa, plus a depressive spiral.

“Stop biting your lip.”

Eiji’s gentle admonition draws Ash out of his thoughts, and belatedly he realizes he’s been chewing at his lower lip for almost a full minute, as he stands there and wallows in indecision instead of following Eiji up the stairs.

It strikes him that he’s been doing a lot of standing in parking lots, lately. Standing there and wondering which of these doors hides someone important from his childhood. Griffin’s behind one of these doors, this time—who would’ve thought that Eiji would lead him to Griff, that his soulmate would know Griff’s best friend’s soulmate? It’s a convoluted chain but it’s brought them here, and now the only thing separating him from his brother is a flight of stairs and a door.

He’s so nervous he might throw up.

“It will be okay,” Eiji adds, and Ash bites his lip again to swallow a retort of _you don’t know that._ Eiji frowns, reaches up to cup his cheek and thumb over the corner of his mouth, and shakes his head, then pulls him into his arms. “It will, Aslan. It will be okay.”

Ash hesitates for a long moment before he hunches his shoulders and buries his face in Eiji’s neck, clutching at him and breathing in. He smells of vanilla—his favorite lotion—and it’s grounding, keeps his mind from wandering too far. “Might not be.”

“Why wouldn’t it?” Eiji rubs his back. “He is your brother. He will be so happy to see you again.”

“Or he’ll be disgusted.” Ash tightens his arms, clinging desperately to him. “I’ll tell him what happened after I ran away and he’ll think I’m tainted and gross.”

“He will _not.”_ Eiji pets his hair, too, fingers scrunching slowly against his scalp. “He raised you, Aslan. He loves you. Nobody who loves you could ever be disgusted with you for having been hurt. And if he really is, then I will yell at him.”

The idea of Eiji, tiny and innocent thing that he is, turning his stubborn firebrand eyes on Griffin in retaliation for casting Ash aside, is so ridiculous that Ash lets out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, okay.”

Eiji holds him for several more seconds, until the breeze picks up and he shivers. “Are you ready to go in?”

Ash isn’t ready. He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready. His legs feel like jelly and his stomach is threatening to do somersaults any moment now. But it doesn’t matter. He lifts his chin, loosens his deathgrip on the back of Eiji’s sweater, and nods. “Yeah.”

Eiji takes his hand as they walk up the stairs. Ash holds it like a lifeline.

Max Glenreed opens the door just a few seconds after Eiji knocks—must’ve been waiting for them, Ash supposes, and that’s fair, because they were in the parking lot for a few minutes. They’re probably a little late.

“Hey!” Max greets. He has a wide smile, as if this is an occasion to celebrate instead of one to dread. “Eiji, and… Aslan, yeah?” He holds out his hand. “I’m Max. It’s great to meet you! Griff’s told me a lot about you.”

“Yeah.” Ash doesn’t shake his hand. “I’m sure.”

Eiji wordlessly squeezes his fingers and strokes his thumb over his knuckles. “Hi, Max! It is good to see you again.”

Max drops his hand and steps back, waving them in. “Yeah! C’mon in. Jess took Michael to the park, so it’s just us. Ibe made some curry…”

Ash tunes him out as he follows Eiji into the apartment. Eiji frowns and tugs his hand when he doesn’t stop to take his shoes off, so he sighs and unties first one, then the other, and toes out of them at the door and lets Eiji guide him in further.

Gaze sweeping the living room, Ash tries not to fret or get any more antsy than he already is. The couch is empty, the armchairs are empty, but the lights are on. Where is Griffin…?

A burst of laughter echoes from what Ash assumes is the kitchen, and Max goes to check it out. Ash means to follow, but his body is frozen.

That was Griff’s voice. That was Griff’s laugh.

 _Help,_ he manages, riveted to the spot. His fingers in Eiji’s might as well be made of ice, for all that he can feel them. The world is spinning a little. He might throw up. _Help, Eiji, I can’t—_

Suddenly Eiji is in front of him, cupping his cheeks. “Aslan,” he murmurs, out loud, and Ash latches onto the sound of his voice. “Can you hear me?”

Ash nods, just once.

“Look at me, please?” Eiji guides his face a little down, until their foreheads are pressed together. With effort, Ash manages to breathe, just a little bit. “I am here. It will be okay. I am with you, no matter what. Okay?”

Ash wants to _run._ He squeezes his eyes shut, but Eiji taps his cheek with one finger, and he opens them again, looking only at Eiji and his thick, dark eyelashes, the curve of his nose, the roundness of his cheeks. Just Eiji. “Okay. Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” Eiji meets his eyes, concerned and gentle. Ash could weep, having his love and support _here_ with him, not just radiating out from a world away. “Do you need a minute? We could step back out…”

“I’m okay,” Ash breathes. “I’m okay. We can stay, it’s fine, I just…”

He looks to the kitchen again. People are moving around there—one of them is Max, one of them is Ibe, and one of them is Griff. They should… he and Eiji could just go look, and…

“Do you want me to go say hi first?” Eiji starts to step away, and in a panic Ash grabs at his sweater, his sleeve, anything to keep him close. “Oh—or not…?”

“Please just stay with me,” he begs softly. “Please.”

“Oh, Aslan.” Eiji leans up and—just like he did yesterday morning—kisses his cheek. “Of course. I am here for you.”

Ash bites his lip again and nods. Eiji gently strokes his thumb over his lip to remind him to stop; he offers a sheepish look, and Eiji laughs. They separate, Ash’s hand finding Eiji’s again, and look to the kitchen again. Eiji starts to step forward, but before either of them can, someone exits.

The wheelchair is the first thing Ash notices.

Griffin looks a lot like he used to—smaller, maybe, and more tired, but much the same—and Ash nearly steps back in shock. There’s no mistaking it. That _is_ his brother.

“Aslan,” Griff breathes, stopping in the doorway and looking at him like a man wandering the desert must look at an oasis. “Oh my god…”

“H-hey,” Ash manages. “I, um. Hi?”

Eiji gives him a gentle push forward, and the next few seconds blur out but then he’s kneeling, he’s kneeling on the carpet and clutching at his big brother’s shoulders as Griff hugs him tight, tight, _tight._ There’s a hard lump in his throat and his eyes burn with tears that he doesn’t realize he’s crying until Griff rubs his back and murmurs “Shh, shhh, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay,” just like he always used to.

But Ash _isn’t_ the same kid that Griff used to soothe.

He cries harder.

Eventually—he’s not sure exactly how long it takes—he cries himself out and lifts his head from Griffin’s lap, wiping his face. Griff was crying too, he belatedly notices, and at some point Ibe and Max and Eiji went… somewhere? Somewhere, to give them space.

Griff pats his head, ruffles his hair. “Oh, god, Aslan, I never thought I’d find you again like this…” He laughs, the same comforting laugh that Ash grew up with. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Where have… what _happened?”_

Ash bites his lip again. This time, Eiji isn’t right there to tell him to stop. “It’s, uh. A really long story. I don’t… what happened to you?”

“Hm? Oh.” Griff looks down at himself, as if only just remembering the chair. “That happened in Iraq. That’s where I met Max, you know. But yeah,  I was honorably discharged after the attack, so I came home.” He shrugs with the same lopsided smile Ash saw as a kid, when he came home with good grades or helped out in the kitchen without being asked. “It’s just how it is now, don’t worry.”

“Oh.” Ash looks away. “Wow. I’m, um… I’m sorry?”

Griff laughs again and ruffles his hair. “For what, squirt?”

Ash scowls. “I’m probably taller than you by now!”

Griffin’s smile fades, and he looks him over, up and down, pensive. “Yeah,” he finally murmurs, voice softer. “Yeah, you are. God, you’ve grown up, haven’t you?”

Images of messy sheets stained with blood and tears and—and other bodily fluids—and memories of gunshots and screams and pain all flash through Ash’s mind, faster than light, and he swallows uncomfortably. “Uh. Yeah. I guess so.”

Griff smiles again, more gentle this time. “That’s okay. You’re still my baby brother, as far as I’m concerned.” He hugs Ash again. “D’you wanna have lunch now?”

Ash wipes at his face one last time and climbs a bit shakily to his feet. His knees are stiff. “Guess so.”

 _You can come back,_ he tells Eiji, and immediately one of the doors down the hall opens. Eiji pops out, beaming, followed by Max and Ibe, and hurries over to introduce himself to Griff; Ash quietly takes his hand again and squeezes it tight.

Lunch goes pretty well. Ibe’s curry is good, despite Max’s ribbing, and Eiji lets Ash hold his hand under the table the entire time, even though it makes him switch to kind of awkwardly holding his chopsticks in his left hand. Griff doesn’t ask where he’s been again, not in front of everyone, and Ash is grateful—Eiji’s the only person who knows, and the idea of the stifling concern and pity the rest of them would give him makes him preemptively nauseous. He doesn’t want anyone’s pity.

Luckily, it seems like he won’t have to deal with that. They just sit and talk, and to his surprise, Ash doesn’t mind it that much. Mostly because Eiji’s there, but the rest of them aren’t _that_ bad, either. And he’s… he’s really glad to know Griff is okay. There was always a little part of him that was terrified Griff died overseas.

“Ah,” Ibe finally says, looking at his wristwatch. “I need to get going soon—there’s a client who wants some photos taken at four, and I need to be at the studio early enough to set everything up.”

“Aww, damn.” Max shakes his head. “Pragmatic as ever, huh, Shunichi? Too bad you gotta miss the rest of this party!”

Ibe shrugs. “What else do you do when duty calls?”

“Hang up,” Max suggests, chortling, and Griff snorts. 

Ash glances at his phone. It’s half past two. He wanted to meet Alex to talk about what Wookie said to Bones last night… if he leaves now, he can still make it by three, probably. Maybe. “Yeah, I should probably head out, too.”

All three of them turn to him, surprised. Only Eiji seems unperturbed.

“Head out?” Griffin asks, concerned. “Where… Aslan, where do you live now, anyway? I thought you’d want to come back home with me.”

Ash tenses. “I’m not going back to Cape Cod.”

Griffin winces and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair. I guess we can start apartment hunting around here. Where are you in the meantime?”

“I live with some of the other boys who fell through the cracks.” Ash lets go of Eiji’s hand to cross his arms. “I’m not leaving them. They need me.”

“What?” Griff looks utterly bewildered. “Aslan, you don’t have to be responsible for a bunch of other kids. You’re still a child yourself—”

Ash laughs in his face.

“Yeah, sure, as far as the law’s concerned.” He scoffs. Griff still thinks he’s a child. He’s not! That tiny, innocent little boy died years ago. Murdered in cold blood the night Golzine’s collector first threw him on his back and laughed as he wept. “As far as anyone else’s concerned, I grew up a long-ass time ago. I’m not leaving my boys. Forget it.”

Eiji quietly rests his hand on his knee under the table, silent but supportive. Ash doesn’t look at him, too busy staring Griffin down, but he sends him a little flicker of gratitude.

“Aslan,” Griff says slowly, frowning. “I don’t know what you’ve been through in the past six years, but you _are_ still—you don’t need to be living, what, on the streets?” He looks at Eiji a little incredulously. “He’s living like that and you’re _okay_ with it?”

White-hot indignance flares up in him as Eiji squeaks, looking like a deer in the headlights. “Don’t try to drag Eiji into this!” Ash snaps. “He’s actually been there for me this whole time, so—”

Griffin flinches as if struck. Ash breathes out.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “But don’t act like Eiji is a bad soulmate for not trying to force me to do something. I’m fucking _sick_ of people forcing me to do shit.”

Griff exchanges glances with Max before meeting his eyes again. “I won’t _force_ you, but I really think you should come home with me. But… Aslan. Where have you been for the past six years?”

Ash laughs humorlessly. Here it comes: the pity-fest. “You really wanna fucking know?”

Griff meets his gaze levelly. “Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

“I’ve been living with my boys for over a year.” Ash crosses his arms again. He was right all along. This was a bad idea. Griff is a piece of his past that he can’t go back to, not now that he’s a broken fucking mess. “Gotta say, living in the gang hideout is a lot safer than where I’ve _been._ You don’t wanna know what that means.”

“If you’re living in dangerous places, that’s all the more reason for you to come back home with me,” Griffin persists. His frown deepens with disapproval. “I know you care for them, Aslan, but you’re still a kid yourself. You shouldn’t—”

“I’m _not!”_ Ash slams his hands on the table and shoots to his feet. The silverware clatters. “You keep thinking I’m the same kid you _left_ eight years back. Maybe even the same fucking kid you wrote letters to until six years ago. I dunno. But I’m _not._ You wanna know why?”

“Aslan,” Eiji whispers, but Ash ignores him, chest tight with unshed tears of frustration. If he wasn’t fucking like this he could go home with his brother, but he _can’t._ He won’t abandon the gang, not when they all look up to him and they need him. He won’t let anyone hurt them. He’s been hurt enough for all of them.

“Why?” Griffin asks, so calm that it’s infuriating. Doesn’t he care that Ash is fucked up and broken and ruined? Doesn’t he give a shit? Or is he only interested in having a brother in name—having the shell, the flesh-and-blood but not the spirit? Just like the rest of them. Just like everyone else.

 _“Because he fucking died years ago!”_ Ash glares, eyes brimming again. “That kid died in a fucking mafia child whorehouse and he never, ever came back. He’s fucking dead, do you hear me? And he’s not coming back!”

Griffin gasps, the blood draining from his face, but Ash’s vision is so blurry he can’t bring himself to notice or care. Ibe is still standing there, caught in the awkwardness, and Max looks slowly from Ash to Griff, and fucking hell, Ash can’t take this.

“Your little brother went to _hell_ and died there,” he spits. “I’m what’s left. Not what you wanted in your life. Not a nice child or whatever the fuck I used to be. This is it! This is me now! I killed your Aslan Jade just to survive!”

“Aslan,” Eiji whispers, again, reaching for him, but Ash can’t. He can’t stay here.

Chest heaving, he takes one step back, then another. “I’m done,” and he turns and stuffs his feet into his shoes. “I’m done, I’m fucking done!”

“Wait!” Griff cries, but Ash yanks the door open and flees, chest heaving with the force of suppressed sobs. He can’t he can’t he can’t, he’s broken and Griff wants the little brother he used to have, not—not _him,_ and he can’t be that so he has to run because staying hurts. Hurts so much he chokes on his own tears as he fumbles his helmet on and kicks up the motorcycle stand.

 _Aslan!_ Eiji sounds upset. _Please come back!_

Fuck.

Eiji.

He’s having a breakdown and he’s gonna make Eiji feel all of it, again, because he’s shit. No. No, he can’t do that to him.

 _I can’t,_ he says, and blocks their bond.

* * *

By the time he gets back to his place, the dreary, cloudy sky has opened up and soaked him to the skin. He can’t bring himself to care—it’s cold and wet and miserable, but his body can handle it, has been through much worse, so who cares? It doesn’t matter—as he parks his bike and slumps back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut against tears.

He _knew_ this wouldn’t work. Knew it! Knew Griff would only want sweet little Aslan Jade back, not fucked up and prickly Ash Lynx with all his problems and stupid bullshit. And yet he still agreed to go see him, because—because what?

Because he thought that maybe, somewhere deep down, Aslan Jade’s innocence still lived?

Ha. As if.

“God,” he whispers, trembling. That’s the other good thing about the rain. At least now if he’s shivering, he can pretend it’s because of the cold. “Fuck.”

He’s just an idiot. Stupid fucking idiot who thought he could go back to having someone love and take care of him. He can’t go back! He can’t go back to being a normal kid again, no matter what Griff wants. The mafia men saw to that.

“Boss?”

Alex’s voice jolts him out of his thoughts, and his eyes snap open. Alex has an umbrella, standing on the cracked sidewalk and looking at him with concern.

 _Shit,_ it’s cold.

“Hey,” he says, forcing his voice to be even. “You’re early.”

Alex nods, but he seems a little distracted, hesitating a moment before he takes the plunge. “Er… are you… Pardon me for askin’, Boss, but are you okay?”

Ash’s breath leaves him with a hiss. “Fine. Why do you ask?”

“You’re… standing out in the rain?” Alex frowns. “I thought you were gettin’ lunch with your soulmate— _oh_. Oh, shit.” He blows out a breath.

Ash stares him down, just daring him to offer pity. He doesn’t fucking need any sympathy.

“I, uh… shit, Boss, if anything happened… well, if you ever wanna talk about it, or if there’s anything I can do, lemme know, okay?”

At least an offer of assistance is better than pity. Ash shrugs. “Sure.”

“I can go,” Alex adds. “If you need some time to yourself. There’s nothing urgent, right? We can chat about it later.”

Ash offers a curt nod. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“Okay.” Alex takes a small step back. “You take care of yourself, Boss. Get somewhere dry, get a hot shower, yeah? Can’t have you fallin’ sick on us, right?”

Ash nods again, a little stiff. Alex means well, but small talk is very much beyond him right now. “Yeah. ‘Course not.”

“Good.” Alex hesitates. “And your soulmate…”

“Did nothing wrong,” Ash interrupts flatly. “He’s not the one who did something.”

“Oh,” Alex says softly. “Okay. I’ll leave you be, Boss, but if you need anything—”

“I’ll text you, or someone,” Ash says, a bit more terse than he needs to be. “Heard you the first time. Anyway. I’m gonna go for a bit. Text you about meeting tomorrow. Cool?”

“Cool,” Alex agrees.

He turns with a parting nod and walks back down the street. Ash watches the grey curtain of rain part around his umbrella and close again in his wake as he retreats, idly fascinated by the ripples of the drops in the puddles, before he shakes out of it and starts to walk up the stairs. God, he really is gonna need to wring these clothes out and hang them up to dry as soon as he gets through the door; they’re completely soaked through…

But focusing on mundane tasks only gets him so far, and once he’s taken a hot shower and his wet clothes are dripping above the bathtub to dry, he finds himself sitting on his couch, knees tucked to his chest, and ruminating. There isn’t much else to do, he realizes, and suddenly Griff’s stunned, horrified face flashes across his mind’s eye again.

God. Fuck.

It’s weird, not having Eiji in his head right now. He’s never blocked him out before, not like this. But when he’s drowning in as much self-loathing as he is, the idea of opening the bond is cruel at best _._ And he knows Eiji already struggles with his own problems. It’d just be selfish to make him comfort him through this horseshit.

No, Ash just needs to get over himself and let go of that last bit of childish hope for a family, and then he can go back to Eiji. It’ll be fine.

He sits for several minutes, each bleeding into the next until he no longer knows where one begins and the previous ends, and frowns at the Coke stain on the carpet. It hurts. It hurts to know that Griff still sees him as nothing but a child, as someone who needs protection and advice and guidance.

It hurts, because if there was a time when he needed those things, it’s long past. He never got help when he needed it, but now it’s offered? That _hurts._ Hurts so much it’s laughable.

A sharp knock to the door breaks into his thoughts again, and he scowls as he goes to check who it is. Didn’t Alex tell everyone he’s not in the mood to hang out tonight?

Skipper, standing outside, stands on his tiptoes and waves at the peephole. “Ash! You’re home, right?”

Oh, what the hell. Ash takes a breath to stabilize himself and pulls the door open. “Hey, Skip. Whaddya need?”

“Not a lot!” Skip bounces past him and flops onto the couch. Ash stares at him for a moment, just a little flabbergasted, then shakes his head, sighs, and closes the door again. “Just thought I’d come by. Alex said you seemed down, so…”

Ash snorts. More like Skip probably pestered Alex about why he wasn’t at Ash’s place, and then came to see for himself. “I appreciate the thought, but you don’t gotta check in on me just ‘cuz Alex says something. I’m okay.”

Skip laughs. “Really? ‘Cuz to me it looks like you’re moping up a storm! Get it? Cuz, it’s raining?”

Ash rolls his eyes. “Don’t be fucking rude.”

Skip grins again, then softens. “Aw, Ash. What happened? Alex said you were gonna go have lunch with your soulmate!”

“I did.” Ash sighs shortly again. How much did Alex tell him, anyway? “We had lunch. It wasn’t anything about my soulmate. That was fine. Something else happened, and I’m just tired.”

“You seem upset,” Skip says, earnest. He digs around in his little schoolbag for a moment, face scrunched up in concentration, and finally produces what he’s looking for: a chocolate pudding cup, which he holds out with a bright smile. “Here! It’s a good pick-me-up. Try it!”

Ash eyes it a bit dubiously. “I’m good, but thanks.”

Skip pouts. “It’s _good,_ Ash! You have somethin’ against pudding?”

“No.” Ash folds his arms. “It’s just _your_ pudding. Why would I take it?”

“’Cuz it’s a _gift.”_ Skip rolls his eyes, this time. “I like pudding cups when I’m sad. So here’s one for you!”

Shoulders slumping, Ash can’t help a slight smile. “Alright. Fine. You win. Thanks, Skip.”

He takes the pudding and goes to the kitchen to grab a spoon; Skip watches him expectantly until he sits down again and opens the cup. It’s sweet of him, even if it’s unnecessary. Griff would like Skip. Probably better than he likes Ash, at this point.

Fuck Griff. At least he has pudding.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone eat pudding _angrily_ before,” Skip observes.

“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything,” Ash mutters around his spoon. Maybe there is merit to the concept of eating his feelings. He still feels like shit, but at least he can down some chocolate and sugar while feeling he’s at it. “It’s just been a long day.”

“What happened?” Skip tips his head to the side. “I’ve never seen you this upset before.”

Ash heaves a deep sigh, licks the back of the spoon, and slumps back against the couch cushions. He doesn’t really want to go through the whole thing, dumping all of that on Skip, but he appreciates him asking a lot. “It’s… a long story.”

“Do you wanna tell it?” Skip rearranges himself to lean back against the armrest, hands in his lap as he looks at Ash with big, concerned eyes. “I’m good at listening to stories!”

Ash has to laugh. “Well… if you wanna know—and don’t go telling everyone, okay?—I have a brother.”

Skip’s gasp is nothing short of theatrical. “No way!”

“Yes way.” Ash scrapes the spoon against the sides of the pudding cup to get the last of it. Why do they make these things so small? “He’s older than me. More or less raised me for a few years, ‘cuz our dad sucks. Anyway, he went to the army, and I thought he died. Turns out he didn’t. So I met him again today, and it didn’t go that well. So I’m just a bit…unhappy.”

“Why didn’t it go well?” Skip looks crestfallen on his behalf. “Wasn’t he happy to see you?”

Ash sighs again, remembering how Griff insisted that he’s _too young_ to be on his own, like he’s a fucking child, and didn’t want to listen to him. “Not entirely. It’s complicated.”

“I’ll fight him!” Skip declares, sitting up straight and raising his fists in a boxing stance.

Ash snorts. “Don’t do that.”

“I’ll fight him, but only if you say so!”

“I said don’t.” Despite himself, Ash finds his lips twitching in an effort to conceal a smile. Skip’s boundless enthusiasm is contagious.

“I won’t fight him!” Skip looks resolute.

“Thank you—”

_“Yet!”_

Ash groans and claps a palm to his forehead. “Skipper, no…”

Skip grins brightly, undeterred. “Skipper, yes!” he crows, sliding off the couch and trotting toward Ash’s kitchen. “Where’s your pots? Let’s make hot chocolate. It’s good on rainy days! You’ll feel better, I promise.”

“They’re in the bottom left cabinet when you walk in,” Ash calls, getting to his feet too. There’s a bit of clanging from the kitchen, and then a quiet _Aha!_ , and he finds himself fondly rolling his eyes as he enters. “You sure you can reach the cooktop?”

“I am armed and dangerous,” Skip says, holding a heavy cast-iron frying pan in both hands. “I could drop this on your foot!”

Ash laughs out loud. “Yeah, sure, whatever you say! But armed or not, I dunno if that’s the best thing to make hot chocolate in.”

“It’s not.” Skip hands him the frying pan and pulls a small saucepan out of the cabinet. “But your pots are all stacked on top of each other.”

“It’s called organization.” Ash shoves the frying pan back into the cabinet as best as he can and then shuts the door, ignoring the extra clanging.

“I don’t think it is,” Skip says.

“Didn’t ask,” Ash says, filling the pot with water and setting it on the stove. He leans back against the counter and folds his arms, then looks at Skip, one eyebrow raised. “What?”

“Nothing!” Skip says cheerfully, and leans against his side as they wait for the water to boil. 

* * *

[04:02] shorter:  
hey

[04:03] ash:  
hey

[04:03] shorter:  
you good?

[04:06] ash:  
why do you ask?

[04:06] shorter:  
so that’s a no. ok.  
you wanna talk abt it?

[04:06] ash:  
talk about what

[04:06] shorter:  
stop being cagey dude eiji came over and told me what happened  
you wanna talk?

[04:07] ash:  
no. how is eiji?

[04:07] shorter:  
you could ask him yourself.

[04:08] ash:  
no i can’t.

[04:08] shorter:  
i mean you could…

[04:08] ash:  
i can’t. he’s alright though, right?

[04:08] shorter:  
well he’s crying into sing’s devil cat but nadia’s making dumplings so he’ll be fine  
but im not here to talk about eiji. im here to talk abt u, my broski. open up.

[04:09] ash:  
never call me “broski” again and i might.

[04:09] shorter:  
u got it, duderino

[04:09] ash:  
:/

[04:09] shorter:  
hey i upheld my end of the deal  
your turn!  
come over u can have food on us  
for the price of one small bro-to-bro talk about emotions.  
bromotions, if you will.

[04:10] ash:  
i most certainly will not.  
but also dumplings…  
idk if i can face eiji right now though……  
i just need to sort out my head before i can let anyone into it

[04:11] shorter:  
he won’t be here by the time you come over  
he and sing are going to the movies after they eat

[04:11] ash:  
oh.  
okay then. i guess.

[04:11] shorter:  
yeah whats your next excuse? i’ll shoot it down too  
i know you and your self-isolating tendencies.  
aslan “ash lynx” callenreese-okumura if u don’t get ur ass over here to talk…

[04:11] ash:  
what the fuck kind of name is that  
okumura isn’t even part of my name

[04:12] shorter:  
yea and it WONT be if u keep going at this rate  
now come over or im stealing ur boyfriend for good  
hes too cute and huggable not to be SOMEONES teddy bear  
and honestly??? nadia might beat me to it  
youre like ten minutes of eiji crying from her getting charlie to arrest u for crimes against humanity  
or just straight up beating your ass with a wok  
so come over. we can have a beer and talk

[04:14] ash:  
hes crying???????

[04:14[ shorter:  
did you think i was kidding when i said he was crying into sing’s devil cat?

[04:14] ash:  
i thought you were maybe exaggerating…

[04:15] shorter:  
to quote, this is the loneliest he’s ever felt and he thinks he’s ruined things and that you don’t want him anymore because he pushed you to do whatever you did today that went badly and its his fault

[04:15] ash:  
fuck  
fuck!!!!  
fine im coming fuck fuck fuck

* * *

 

[04:15] ash:  
eiji? hey im so sorry about earlier  
im not mad at you at all this isnt your fault i just need some time to think  
im sorry about all this but it not your fault ok

[04:17] ash:  
💖

[ Seen by 💕eiji💕 at 04:18 ✔️ ]

* * *

“Like, I feel kind of bad for yelling at him and running away.” Ash takes another swig of beer. “But also… it just fucking sucks, y’know?”

“Mm.” Shorter runs his hand through his hair and leans back against the wall. They’re both sitting on his bed, the door closed so that Sing’s “devil cat” May doesn’t get in, though Ash is considering getting up to get more dumplings from the kitchen. “Yeah.”

“He’s just not—I’m not who he wants me to be.” Ash sighs. “Who’d want a kid brother as fucked up as me, right?”

“I mean… if it were me, I would.” Shorter offers a lopsided smile. “But I’m not him, so I can’t speak for him.”

“He kept saying that I’m still a kid, so I don’t think he wants to accept all _this_ ,” and Ash gestures at himself. “Nobody goddamn Dino fucked can come out a kid.”

He doesn’t like to think about those days, if he’s honest. When he bottled up everything inside himself and forced it into numbness, just to survive. When he couldn’t even cry after being brutally raped, or else he’d be laughed at, mocked, and beaten. He was less than human, to them. Just a cute little plaything to be broken.

He doesn’t like to think about those days, but fuck if he hasn’t been thinking of them anyway, since this afternoon. It’s not pleasant. Skip’s company helped, but only until he left. Then Ash’s brain turned on again, whispering that Griff wanted a kid brother like Skip, not a broken killer like Ash.

God, he’s exhausted.

“Yeah.” Shorter reaches over and places a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze before he sits back. “I get that he didn’t have any way of knowing, but I would’ve been upset if someone kept insisting I was a kid in that situation, too.”

“It just fucking _sucks,”_ Ash repeats. He downs the rest of his beer and tosses the bottle at the trash can, where it lands with a loud _clink_. “He raised me, and I was so fucking upset when he got deployed to Iraq. Like, I got that he joined the military so he could get college paid for without loans, so he wouldn’t have to repay them while raising me, but leaving me with our piece of shit dad… sucked.”

He leaves out the part about his baseball coach. Thinking about Dino’s sumptuous bedrooms is already awful enough.

“And then we lost touch. I kind of figured he died out there. And then Eiji comes along and says hey, actually no, he’s friends with his boss’s soulmate! And I thought, oh shit, maybe we can have our little family again.” He scoffs, squeezing his eyes shut as they start to sting. “Naïve of me, right?”

“Ash…” Shorter slings an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close, rubbing his head almost like he’s a dog. Or Sing’s cat. “Aw, man, don’t do that to yourself, dude. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Ash mumbles into his shoulder, closing his eyes. Shorter gives good hugs. He’s always warm.

“Beat yourself up for having hope.” Shorter pets his head some more, and Ash sighs and relaxes against him. “It’s not naïve to still have faith in the world a bit. Not too much, I mean, ‘cuz that _is_ naïvety, but a little bit? That’s just good living. Being completely cynical all the time makes life… kinda shitty.”

“No wonder my life fucking sucks,” Ash mutters. “I’m a pessimist. You know that. I have to be.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Shorter pats his shoulder and loosens his arms, and Ash sits up straight again. “I’m just saying. You might even be able to talk to him again, explain why saying you’re still just a kid was shitty, and get through to him! You said he was the quiet and thoughtful type, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ash agrees, looking away. “I just don’t wanna get my hopes up again. I’ve managed without him for years. I don’t need him just because he showed up again.”

“You might not need him,” Shorter says gently, “but you do want him. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be close with him again. I mean, if it was me ‘n’ Nadia, I know I’d feel like complete shit knowing she was out there but I was avoiding her because I was upset last time we talked. You really wanna live with that?”

Ash huffs. “Wouldn’t be the first time I didn’t have closure over something.”

“Way to not answer the question, Lynx.”

“Fuck you.” Ash sighs. “I… don’t _want_ to live with that.”

“Then at the very least you probably wanna talk to him again, yeah?” Shorter presses. “You can explain why you were upset. He might listen. Even if he doesn’t, you’ll know you tried.”

“I guess.” Ash bites his lip absently before remembering Eiji chiding him earlier. A pang hits him. “I feel like shit about making Eiji cry…”

“Yeah, well, you just tell him sorry for catching him in the crossfire and give him a big ol’ hug when he gets back, and everything will be okay.” Shorter scoots to the edge of the bed and hops up. “I’m getting more dumplings. You want more dumplings?”

“What kind of question is that?” Ash gets to his feet and stretches. “When would I literally ever say no to Chang Dai dumplings?”

“When I make ‘em, you dipshit,” Shorter laughs, leading the way out of his room. May winds her way around his legs immediately, yowling her displeasure with being locked out, and Ash crouches down to scratch behind her ears. “Oh, sure, she lets you pet her without taking your arm off, huh?”

“Sometimes.” Ash stands back up as Shorter heads for the kitchen. May complains by standing on his foot and caterwauls as she grabs his leg and sinks her claws in. He winces. “Not always.”

Shorter offers him a sympathetic look. “Consolation dumplings for the Mauled By Sing’s Hell Cat Club, members two?”

“Yes.” Ash carefully detaches one of May’s paws from his jeans, only for it to reattach the second he moves to the other one. May complains at him again, and with a deep sigh, he picks her up as she seems to want. It’s only a matter of time before she takes his eye out, he swears.

Eiji and Sing get home about twenty minutes later. May jumps out of Ash’s lap, landing on the carpet with a _thump,_ and meows loudly as she sprints madly to the front door, where Sing is locking the door while Eiji takes off his shoes. May trills and winds around both of their legs, rubs her face against Sing’s ankle, and then plaintively mews up at Eiji.

“Oh, Miss May,” Eiji coos. He picks her up and sets her against his shoulder with a little smile, and she nuzzles his cheek and rubs her head against his jaw over and over.

Ash’s heart stutters and falters. Eiji…

He opens his connection to their bond again and immediately is flooded by Eiji’s soft sorrow and self-blame and then surprise and overwhelming relief. _Aslan? Aslan—_

“Hey, Eiji,” he says out loud, voice soft as he steps out of the kitchen and goes to greet him. Belatedly he remembers to add, “Hey, Sing.”

“Yo!” Shorter calls, following him in. “How was the movie?”

“Alright,” Sing answers with a shrug. He gives Eiji a long, searching look, almost _wistful_ —oh? Oh. Is that so. Well, Ash supposes he has good taste. “Kinda predictable.”

“It was nice,” Eiji says diplomatically. He gives Ash a shy glance, and Ash holds one arm out slightly, trying to stuff down his nervousness. Eiji’s eyes are still a bit red. God, he’s a dick.

But Eiji’s an angel, because Eiji doesn’t hold it against him at all. He just takes a little step closer, lets Ash wrap his arm around his waist, and leans a little into him. Ash can’t help the relief that surges through him as Eiji settles against his side. Eiji feels relieved, too.

 _I’m sorry,_ he murmurs, looking at Eiji guiltily. _I shut you out because I didn’t want to hurt you, but I ended up hurting you anyway._

 _It is okay,_ Eiji immediately assures. He doesn’t _feel_ that okay. _I was… afraid. But not now._

“Glad it wasn’t total shit,” Shorter says, and Ash has to tear his eyes from his soulmate for a moment for the sake of converation. He doesn’t miss the way Sing is still looking at Eiji, as if he thinks he’s subtle. Poor kid. “But also you two need to talk before I lose any more brain cells. Shoo, shoo, take the dumplings if you want, there’s still beer in the fridge if you want that, but go!”

Eiji ducks his head a little, and May squirms. She’s purring so hard Ash can hear it, standing next to them. How come she purrs and meows cutely and avoids her claws for Eiji? No fair.

“Right,” Eiji mumbles, looking up at Ash again. “Um?”

“C’mon,” Ash says, and arm still about his waist, he leads the way to Shorter’s room and shuts the door again.

They settle onto the edge of Shorter’s tiny, kinda shitty couch, and Eiji carefully arranges May down into his lap. She’s still purring, nuzzling his arm as he pets her, and Ash stares in mild disbelief as he wraps his arm about Eiji’s shoulders. Eiji leans against him and lets out a shaky sigh, sniffling once, and guilt twinges through Ash’s gut again.

“Oh, Birdie,” he breathes, leaning in and pressing a kiss into Eiji’s hair. “Oh, Eiji, don’t cry. I’m sorry. I fucked up. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

“I was the one who told you to come to Max’s apartment today,” Eiji says, voice quavery. May chirps and butts her head against his elbow. “I am sorry. You were not sure if you were ready and I pushed you and—”

“You didn’t do _anything_ wrong,” Ash repeats firmly, pressing him closer. Eiji can’t blame himself for Griff being… for Griff not wanting him. It’s not his fault. “You gave me hope about it. I needed that.”

Eiji looks up at him with big, watery eyes, and Ash’s breath catches in his throat. “You were so upset… and I could not do anything to help, I… I did not know what to do…”

Ash has to close his eyes as he leans down, presses his forehead to Eiji’s, cups his cheek. “It wasn’t your fault. Nothing that happened today was your fault. I needed… I needed some time to think, but I should’ve made that clearer. Would’ve saved you a lot of heartache. I’m sorry, Eiji. I’m really sorry I scared you.”

Eiji abruptly flings his arms around him and buries his face in his neck, clinging to him. Ash hugs him back tightly, rubbing his back, and Eiji takes a deep, shaky breath. “I thought… I was scared you might not ever let me back in.”

Ash’s breath catches in his throat, and he squeezes him tighter. “Oh, god, fuck, Eiji, no… no. I would never do that. You’re the most important person in the whole world to me. I’m sorry. I would rather cut off my own arm than—I would never, okay? I promise.”

Eiji sniffles again. “Y-you mean it? I just—I thought, maybe that really was the last straw, after how I am mopey and I made you comfort me about it already and then you shut me out b-because you were mad at me for forcing you into that situation, and…”

Ash’s heart clenches. He could kick himself for being such a fucking idiot—why didn’t he just tell Eiji he needed space? He’s a _moron._ He spent all that time thinking he couldn’t open the bond because he’d just hurt Eiji if he did, so instead he hurt Eiji anyway? Stupid!

“You didn’t force me anywhere,” he murmurs, rubbing his back again. “And I never—you don’t _make_ me comfort you, I _want_ to. You’ve spent all your life being here for me and I want to be here for you, too, and… I fucked up, this is on me, and you’re perfect, okay? You—fuck! Ow!”

May lets out a loud meow of complaint as he jerks back, one hand clapped protectively over his side. Apparently she doesn’t like when he hugs his soulmate! Hell cat.

“Oh, May!” Eiji giggles, his voice a little watery, but at least he’s smiling. “Be nice to Aslan, please!”

“Shorter’s right. She’s a gremlin,” Ash sighs. May very primly settles into Eiji’s lap again and coils her tail about her back feet.

“She is an angel,” Eiji says, stroking her belly. “An angel with such a fluffy tummy, yes?”

May purrs. Ash stares.

“She lets you give her _belly rubs?”_

Eiji blinks. “Yes? She loves belly rubs! Right, Miss May?”

May just keeps purring. Ash shakes his head incredulously. “I’ve tried giving her a belly rub _once_ and never again. She tried to take my hand off! What the fuck?”

“What?” Eiji furrows his brow. “May! You would not do something like that, would you? You are a good girl!”

May just offers a tiny _mrrp_ in answer.

“Unbelievable,” Ash mutters. “What a charmer you are, Birdie.”

Eiji laughs again, a little giggle, and Ash can’t help leaning in to brush a soft kiss to his cheek. He lingers, lips against Eiji’s skin, and cups his jaw, just relishing in the closeness, and feels Eiji’s soft contentment over their bond.

 _I love you,_ Eiji tells him. _I love you very much._

“I love you, too,” Ash breathes. It feels important that he say it out loud. May meows in complaint that Eiji’s stopped petting her, and he almost laughs. _Are you okay?_

 _Yes. I just…_  Eiji’s nose brushes his, and Ash opens his eyes for a brief moment to see those lovely dark ones looking back at him. _I just want to be with you for a little while? If that is alright?_

 _More than alright,_ Ash promises, heart squeezing in his chest. He wants to be with Eiji for more than just a little while. Now that his head feels more clear, he wants to be with Eiji forever. “Birdie?”

“Mm?”

Ash strokes his cheek with a careful hand, smiling as Eiji closes his eyes again. “Can I… can I kiss—”

The door slams open, and Eiji lets out a half-strangled screech as he jerks away, red-faced. May yowls in complaint as Shorter strides in. “Hold up, hold up! Whoops, I’m interrupting something, oh well! Okay, I don’t care if you make out on my bed or couch or whatever, just don’t get anything on the upholstery—”

“Oh my god, do you ever shut the fuck up,” Ash groans. Eiji squeaks.

“—but I’m just here for the cat.” Shorter leans down and grabs May, who promptly hooks her claws into Eiji’s sweater and lets out a loud wail of complaint as he tries to pick her up. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re needed elsewhere, you fat fucking gremlin!”

After a moment’s struggle, he scoops her up, tail lashing back and forth as she sinks her claws into his arm. Eiji looks a little bewildered, but Ash pulls him close again as Shorter leaves.

“Okay, get back—May Soo-Ling, will you fucking stop—get back to it, pretend I wasn’t here!” he says, and shuts the door again.

“Um,” Eiji says.

Ash really can’t help it. He starts laughing, shaking his head, and leans forward until he can press his face into Eiji’s shoulder. Shorter and that fucking cat, god!

Eiji giggles, too. Ash lifts his head again and looks at him, chest tight with affection, and Eiji touches his cheek. “Well, before that interruption, I think you were asking me something…?”

“I was.” Ash sits up a little straighter, turning to face him on the lumpy couch. “Can I kiss you, Birdie?”

Eiji’s smile is sweeter than any pudding cup. “ _Yes._ ”

Ash cups his cheeks, leans in, and presses his lips to Eiji’s. Eiji’s mouth is soft and sweet, like the strawberry chapstick he put on Ash earlier, and Ash has never loved anyone as much as him; Eiji melts against him with the tiniest little _mm_ into his mouth, and Ash kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.

When he finally withdraws, just for a moment, he brushes his lips to Eiji’s cheek and asks, “Was that okay?”

Eiji laughs breathlessly. “More than okay,” he says, and then a little more shyly, “Can I kiss you, too?”

“You can kiss me whenever you want,” Ash promises, and Eiji leans in with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!!! once again please appreciate the jo art again it's so lovely and soft ;u; here on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jumpforjo/status/1105995515894923264?s=21) and [tumblr](http://jumpforjo.tumblr.com/post/183438113384/whos-ready-for-chapter-5-of-soulmates-running-a) !!!!
> 
> find me on [tumblr](https://eijispumpkin.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/songbirdrimi), or


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